If Things Were Perfect
by Angeleia Kenobi
Summary: Just a simple story, something that I thought would be fun to write while I worked on Reason for Fear 2. Hope you like it, please be kind!
1. Prologue

To say that it was raining was an understatement.

Makers breath to even hint at the word downpour was inadequate. The streets of Denerim were flooded and had become small rivers leading to the roaring Drakon as it rushed to the Amaranthine Sea. The clouds were so thick that only the occasional flash of lightening could light the way as the sheets of water further constricted the field of vision. It was a storm to end all storms, only a fool would be caught out in it and apparently in all of Thedas two such fools existed. The young and beautiful Lady Elissa Cousland and her trusted friend and guard, Nelaros. they'd come to Denerim for separate reasons, but due to the increased highway robberies between Highever and Denerim, Teyrn Cousland had insisted that Nelaros travel with Elissa.

They were slowly making their way through Denerim's flooded streets when Elissa's horse, Darrian, let out a great whinny and reared back. Elissa, a great horsewoman in her own right, was caught off guard and fell into the torrential muck, screeching in pain when her backside connected with the paving stones. Nelaros quickly dismounted and grabbed Darrian's rein before the startled beast could trample Elissa, "Are you alright?"

She tried to laugh, but choked on the water dumping onto her head. She struggled to her feet, the thick leather, wool and fur riding clothes she wore now thoroughly soaked, a small wind picking up just as she stood. "I'm fine," she chuckled as she moved to stand by him, taking Darrian's rein and smirking, "Although my pride is a little bruised."

Nelaros chuckled as he hefted her back astride her saddle then lifted himself into his own, "Very well, milady." He raised his arm and pointed to a darker piece of shadow ahead of them, "The Alienage is just ahead... I think, but I shouldn't guarantee the kind of reception that you will get."

She nodded and pointed down the alley on their left, "The Cousland estate is just down that way, and we both know how we will be treated there."

Nelaros rolled his eyes, "Alright, you win. We go to the estate."

Elissa grinned and nudged Darrian forward, "Wonderful! Hot food and soft bed await!" Nelaros shook his head and followed, unable to really blame her for wanting her own home. It took them another half hour to get to the Cousland estate courtyard, struggling through the flood waters becoming more and more exhausting the closer they got. Once within the stable, Elissa dismounted as Darrian shook himself dry, loosing a small storm in its own right as she tried to remove his sodden gear. Once Darrian was free of it, she led him to his stall at the back of the stable and shut the short gate.

Nelaros approached with a bucket of grain in his hands, his own pony – Lyna – munching away in her own stall. "This should make him happy." He dumped the contents into a small trough outside the stall.

"Thank you, Ros." Elissa said, stroking Darrian's face. She turned to the door, cringing and groaning as she pulled on her soaked traveling cloak, "Ugh." She made a face at Nelaros that made him laugh, "I can't wait to put on some dry clothes and sleep in a dry bed."

He chuckled, "I don't blame you. Come on, let's see what the cook has left over from dinner."

It was a short jaunt from the barn to the servants entrance for the kitchen, but the heavy rains had washed out the rose gardens that her mother has so carefully cultivated over the years and now the path was littered with mud, stems and flowers. "Wonderful." Elissa groaned, "Mother is not going to be happy about this!"

Nelaros shrugged and gripped her shoulder, "Worry about that later. Right now we need to get past this into the house before it gets much later." They fought their way through the mud and ended up tumbling through the door into a laughing heap on the floor.

The guard let out a shout and raised his sword, "Halt! Who goes?"

Elissa looked up at him, her hair loose from its braid and stuck to her face, her wet clothes effectively pinning her to the floor with it's weight, "Steady, soldier. I am Elissa Cousland and this is my traveling companion, Nelaros."

The elf raised his head and smiled widely at the guard, "Hello!"

The guard lowered his weapon, "Apologies, my lady. I hadn't thought that..."

Elissa waved it off as Nelaros helped her to her feet. "Don't worry about it. It shows your dedication to your post. Although, I will ask if the cook has left anything to eat?"

The soldier glanced around the small room, "Um, I think the under-cook is actually still awake... somewhere."

Elissa's eyes widened as she thought about his meaning, "Well then, I would like to have some bread and cheese brought to my rooms."

The guard took off down the hall as she moved through the kitchen and out of a hallway that led to the family rooms. Both she and Nelaros shucked their wet cloaks, draping them over a grate before the fire. "What is it about you that makes people so nervous?"

Elissa shrugged, slipping her fur wrap from her shoulders and it hit the floor with a sickening 'thulp', becoming a white mass at her feet while she arranged her cloak before the fire. "I don't think it is me so much as my name, or my Father, even." She sat down on a chair and picked up the wrap, putting it over the back of it. She then leaned forward and shook out her russet hair, trying to dry it before she went to bed. "Or mayhaps they are afraid of what Fergus would do to them if I am mistreated." She looked at him, a smirk on her lips. "Speaking of nervous, are you?"

He stared into the fire, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her smirk broadened and she chuckled, "So you ARE nervous." His head turned quickly back to her, almost too fast to be taken any other way and it made her laugh. Nelaros rolled his eyes but his response was cut off as a young woman bustled into the room and set a tray of food and a pitcher of wine. Once the woman was gone he glowered at Elissa as she continued to tease him, "So... do you know what she looks like?"

He snorted, nearly choking on his gulp of wine, "Don't be ridiculous..." his voice trailed away and she waited for a brief moment before he spoke again, "Her portrait shows her to be a great beauty, with eyes that shimmer like the sea and hair the color of wheat." Elissa watched as his face grew gentle, "I hear she is an... able woman, healthy and resourceful. She is an only child, but when she was young her two cousins joined the family house and have been living together with her and her father."

Elissa smiled and winked at him, "It sounds as though someone is in love."

Nelaros shook his head, "don't say things like that. You know what it's like for us elves. We are lucky to make an appropriate match let alone a beautiful one." He scoffed, "You – humans – can marry for love. Elves marry simply to carry on our race."

Elissa chortled at that, "And here I thought I'd never see the day. Highever's most eligible bachelor, in love!" He threw his balled wet shirt at her and she let out a playful shriek, raising a hand to block out the sight of his well muscled torso, "Agh! No, please!" He laughed and took a swallow of wine. She spread the tunic beside their cloaks then returned to her own feast of hard bread and cheese.

They ate in silence for a moment before Nelaros spoke again, "I am surprised that you would be teasing me about being in love." She froze, a hunk of bread halfway to her mouth and a wary look in her eyes as he continued, "Yes... surprising. Considering how you were all but fawning over that Grey Warden when they were at Highever last." Her eyes widened and the corner of her mouth twitched in warning, but he ignored it. Gleefully he kept talking, "Now what as his name... Alex? Alis.. Alistair?"

"Ros, you go too far..."

He grinned widely, "Why? Just because you wore your best dress to the celebration ball? Or that you and he spent the entire evening in the garden... unchaperoned?" She threw a hunk of bread at him, but he caught it easily before it hit his chest, "Oh, hit a nerve with that one, didn't I?" He began tearing through the bread, eating it, "Look at this, the great Elissa Cousland, embarrassed about a man."

She shook her head at him, "I told you that in confidence! Why do you pester me about this?"

"Because it is fun! Besides, I saw how your mother was watching you that night. If he wasn't a Grey Warden she would have written out the betrothal announcements that night."

Elissa giggled, "If I were forced to marry, I wouldn't mind if he were like Alistair." Nelaros drained his goblet and refilled it as she spoke, "I can't explain it, but when I saw him... something changed. He's everything I would like in a husband; kind, accomplished with a sword, and speaks with me as though I am a person not a prize. He is a _man_, Ros and every other eligible match my mother brought were boys. Alistair actually speaks to me about the problems in this world. The darkspawn rising in the south, Cailan's politics." She glanced up at him, the shadows cast on her face from the fire making her eyes seem like deep pools of water.

He mocked her tone as he whispered, "Sounds to me that somebody's in love."

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "Oh Maker, no. I just... I wish we could have had more time together. That's all. Gotten to know each other better."

He watched her stare into the fire, "Yes... It is a shame that Grey Wardens can't hold titles, isn't it?" She just smirked and continued staring at the flames while he wondered why she couldn't get her wish. Once the food was gone and they properly intoxicated on the wine he stumbled to the guest rooms while she climbed onto the great bed normally reserved for her parents.

Later that night, Elissa lay awake in the great four poster bed listening to the silence after the storm and wondering what she was going to do. Several of her friends were already married and had children of their own; only she and Delilah Howe were left of the group and Delilah had her eye on a baker in Amaranthine, despite her father pressing the motion of some noble out of the Bannorn.

Off in the distance a mabari howled, and Elissa smiled. The moon must have finally broken through the clouds. Throwing off the blankets she slipped out of bed and padded across the chilled wooden floor to the great window. She pulled open the drapes and looked up at the sky as it shifted from the gray clouds to the star spotted blanket. She could see torches being lit around the palace's walls by the watch, but it wasn't as comforting as it should have been. The King had called the nobility together to give them his decision about the rumored darkspawn attacks in the south and she was to represent Highever and the Cousland family. Then that night the Queen was hosting a ball and she had no doubt that Queen Anora would want to try and marry her off. Sighing heavily she shook her head, closed the drapes and went back to bed. Perhaps the Wardens would be attending the Landsmeet... perhaps she could ask Cailan about it.

Elissa adjusted her skirt for what must have been the umpteenth time and Nelaros shook his head. Elissa glanced at him, a soft scowl on her face. "What?" she asked, irritated that her gown wasn't cooperating. It was of a soft yellow velvet that was tied at the waist with a sash of braided blue and green – the Highever colors – and clung to her curves in a way that was almost uncomfortable. Her mother had packed her clothes for this trip and Elissa hadn't paid attention as things had been thrown into the saddle bags. Now she wished she had.

"You've been fussing with your dress all morning, you look fine." Her eyes widened, "Fine?" she mouthed, her face pale. He shook his head again and tried to smoother his laugh. He grabbed her arms and turned her to look at him, "You, Lady Cousland, are a vision. Your mother knew that yellow was your best color when she had this dress packed."

Elissa rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that because my father pays your wages."

He snorted, "I say it because it's the truth."

She sighed and gave him a once over as well, with his white blonde hair and green eyes he was most definitely elven but his over six foot frame hinted at human ancestry somewhere in his lineage. Nelaros had trained for years with the soldiers, his usual sparring partner soon becoming Fergus Cousland himself. It wasn't long before he became known not only for his fierce loyalty to the Cousland family but also for hie devotion to his brothers in arms, no matter their race. It was because of this that his name came for consideration to be part of Elissa's guard when she came of age. Weapons training aside, Eleanor Cousland had been the one to insist on her daughters safety, despite the family's mabari, Duran, had imprinted on her. Ser Gilmore gave Teyrn Cousland the names of over a dozen soldiers, but it was Fergus' suggestion that the prospective knights spar with Elissa. Let her decide who would guard her... and she had, the one who hadn't skirted away or allowed her to win. So here he stood trying to explain why she shouldn't worry about her appearance.

Gently, Nelaros put his hands on her shoulders, "Elissa Cousland, you are the most beautiful woman I know. Don't fret so much, whatever Queen Anora may think about the ladies at court she has nothing against you."

Elissa looked doubtful but sighed and nodded anyway, "Very well." she grinned wickedly and cocked an eyebrow at him, "She'll be too angry about my bringing an elf into her presence chamber." Nelaros gave her a reproving look, but chuckled anyway as he walked with her out the door to the carriage. The rain from the night before had transformed the usually spotless dirt and cobblestone courtyard into a jumble of debris, slowing Elissa as she carefully picked her way around the rosebushes and mud puddles. They were only halfway across the yard when Nelaros let out an exasperated growl, "We're getting nowhere!" then bent at his waist, slipped an arm beneath her knees and grabbed her opposite shoulder, hefting her into the air.

"Nelaros! What are you doing!"

He gave her a glare and then set her on the seat inside the carriage. "You were moving too slowly. We have to be at the palace by midday and you know how the Queen gets when she's been kept waiting."

Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin was not a patient person. She had been waiting for over an hour for the younger daughter of the Cousland family. It wasn't really that she was necessarily angry about the delay, so much as she knew why. After all, who could pass up a chance to speak with the King of Ferelden when he took the time to personally welcome you to the palace... and escort you into the building, arm in arm with you. Or pause to speak with the Grey Wardens when they crossed your path? She watched as the Grey Warden commander, Duncan, and his protege Alistair stood with the pair, and wondered what could possibly be so fascinating that they would be willing to stand amongst mud puddles and upturned plants while their was a war to be fought?

After what felt like an eternity, the palace chamberlain entered her rooms to announce, "The Lady Elissa Cousland." Anora turned from the window as Elissa entered, smelling of fresh rain and roses, the typical country mix for Ferelden. The young woman dropped into a curtsy, "Your Majesty."

Anora wiggled her fingers at her, "Oh get up." Elissa was smiling as she raised up, "I see you took your time in getting her Lady Cousland." Elissa's smile strained as she bit the inside of her cheek, "You were explicitly told, were you not, that I only had a few moments to spare for your requests. My husband and I are preparing for a war."

Elissa drew a slow breath, trying to keep her smile in place, "Yes, Your Majesty. I apologize for the delay. But as my escort and I were arriving we were... approached by his Majesty and his current band of fellows."

Anora arched a regal eyebrow. It was well known in the Denerim Court that King Cailan wasn't the most faithful of husbands. That's not to say that his being 'friendly' with a woman meant a sexual relationship, but after five years of marriage and no heir from Anora, it meant that several of the lesser nobles were beginning to send their younger – and supposedly fertile – daughters to wait on her Majesty in hopes of catching the Kings eye. A little too late, Elissa realized her mistake as the women around her scooted away as though a lightening strike were soon to occur. Before Anora could begin her tirade into Elissa, King Cailan breezed in, followed closely by the Warden Commander Duncan and an assortment of the kings fellows. Nelaros slipped in behind them and gently tugged on the ends of her sash as she rose from her curtsy. "What's happening?"

Elissa grinned, "Cailan just saved me from a tongue lashing, that's what. Anora was about to tear into me when he walked in."

Nelaros' brow wrinkled, "What did you do?"

Elissa sighed, and was about to answer when Cailan stepped forward and announced, "My friends, the Queen and I would like to invite you to tonight's festivities!" The women around them began to giggle and speak very rapidly, but Elissa's gut tightened. She could only imagine what Cailan was talking about, "What does he mean?" she whispered.

Nelaros smiled, "There's to be a ball and banquet tonight to celebrate the Landsmeet and Grey Wardens."

She bit back a groan, "That means I have to change, doesn't it?" Nelaros nodded, "Into what?" she folded her arms and looked pointedly at him.

"The red and gray gown you brought, of course."

Elissa sighed, "Mother thinks of everything, doesn't she?"

Nelaros chuckled, "Right down to the way your hair is to be done."

For the second time that day, Elissa stared out the carriage window as it rolled passed the palace gate. Her hair was piled atop her head with soft ringlets framing her face. The main gown was a red velvet, with the skirt cut away to reveal a second skirt of gray silk and that same silk was used to tie the open sleeves of the gown at her elbows as the red fabric fell away to the floor. The thickly boned stomacher, also wrapped in gray silk, pressed against her bust, making it swell provocatively. The contrasting colors and cut were of the Orlesian fashion and were sure to be noticed in a crowded room.

The carriage slowed then stopped at the bottom of the stair and the two footmen at the back stepped down to help her and Nelaros emerge. Nelaros emerged first, and was turning to help her down when a voice carried don the steps. "Ho there! Allow me." Elissa's ears perked and she leaned out of the doorway, letting Nelaros take her arm and lift her to the ground.

"Alistair!" She smiled widely up at him as he offered his arm, "I must admit, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

The blond warrior smiled at her, "Good! I was hoping to surprise you." She took his arm and he returned her smile, "I'll escort her from here, Master Nelaros." The elf nodded, bowed and left them to walk inside. "Would you walk for a moment with me, my lady?" Elissa nodded and he led her through a second gate and up to the outer terrace overlooking the palace gardens. Even with the late summer rains and fall setting in, the servants had done their best to preserve the beauty of the plants; several of the leaves were beginning to change their colors and what flowers beds that had survived the storm were letting off a great heady scent, the perfect foreground for the sunset as it hit the spire of Fort Drakon.

She settled herself onto a bench, spreading her skirts slightly and looked up at him as he stared out over the dying rose bushes. They stayed that way for a few moments before Alistair tore his gaze away to her and half smiled, "I assume you've heard then, about the darkspawn rising in the south?"

She nodded, "That's why I'm here. The king has called a Landsmeet to discuss the problem and see what men he can get to help. My father and brother have been asked to bring what men Highever can spare..." She sighed and turned slightly to look out over the garden as well, "I wish I could join them."

Alistair sat beside her, tucking a finger beneath her chin to get her to look at him, "Elissa, I know you can be stubborn, but please. You don't want any part of this war."

Her brow wrinkled and stood angrily, "Wh... Alistair! What do you mean? Ferelden is my home as much as yours, but am I to have no say in its defense? I should just sit back and do nothing then? I'm no Orlesian wallflower!"

He looked up at her, a pained look on his face, "I know that, Elissa. I know. You are the most amazing woman I've ever met; you're smart, resourceful and a whole lot of other things... but darkspawn." he shook his head, "fighting darkspawn changes people. It would change you and I don't want to see that happen. There's something special about you, it's as though you have this light behind your eyes and I fear that the darkspawn would extinguish that." He smiled gently, "Please, my Lady of the Sapphire Eyes."

Elissa bit her lower lip and stared hard into his eyes, remembering something that her father had once said. _'Every man needs something to defend, pup. Just because you're a strong woman doesn't mean that you can't have a warrior protect you.'_ Here was a warrior asking her permission to do just that and it made her insides grow warm, "And what would you ask for in exchange for my sitting on my heels?"

He stood then pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. She placed her hands on his silk clad chest as he leaned in close, as though he would kiss her, "I can think of a few things." She gasped as his lips met hers and he kissed her gently. After a breathless moment she pulled away slightly and untied the silk tie at her right elbow. Carefully, she pushed back his sleeve on that same arm and tied the ribbon around his forearm. Tightening the knot she whispered, "Oh Makers breath! I seem to have lost a ribbon somewhere." She looked up at him and Alistair put his hand over her two on his arm. "No heroics, understand?"

His heart beat a bit faster at the look in her eyes, an anguishing mix of adoration and fear. Slowly, as though he was dealing with a skittish animal, he lowered the sleeve on his arm and took her hands in his. Kissing first one then the other, his lips barely brushing her knuckles, "I shall return to you, my lady. Not even the Maker himself could stop me." She bit her lower lip and turned away, a tear escaping the corner of her eye and sliding down her cheek.

"Be careful what you swear, Grey Warden." He smiled, then pressed a stray bit of linen into her palm. "What..."

He shushed her, a finger across her lips, "So that I might find you later." There came a cough from behind them and they both jumped. Alistair pulled at the end of his gray tunic, tipped his head to Nelaros, bowed to Elissa then scurried back into the ballroom.

"Strange that I might find the two of you out here." Nelaros chuckled, striding towards Elissa. He frowned when he saw the missing ribbon. "Andraste's knickers, Elissa, what happened?"

She looked down at her arm then back at him, shrugging, "I seem to have lost it."

He gave her a suspicious look, "Uh-huh. Sure."

She giggled, "Promise not to tell?"

He smiled and offered his arm, "Of course, my lady. But you might want to hide that other ribbon. He pointed to her left arm and she quickly removed the bit of silk. It sat in her hand for just a moment before she handed it to him, "Best this get tucked away somewhere, Ros."

He nodded, put the ribbon in a pocket and motioned to the ballroom, "Shall we, Lady Cousland?" She curtsied to him, then took his arm and let him lead her into the now crowded room. He led her through the main door so that the chamberlain might announce her, "The Lady Elissa Cousland." She paused for a moment before realizing the man had no intention of mentioning Nelaros. She was about to say something about it when Nelaros touched her arm and shook his head at her, "Come, Lady Elissa." once they were out of earshot of the chamberlain he whispered, "The vultures await." she bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud then cursed mentally as Cailan and Anora approached. Vultures indeed.

Anora spoke first, "I see you've brought your escort, Lady Cousland."

Instantly defensive, Elissa curtsied and rose, "Of course, Your Majesty. My father fairly insisted on his accompanying me."

Anora smirked, the wheels clearly turning in her mind and it made Elissa uncomfortable, "But surely such precautions aren't necessary when you are to be in the presence of your king? Or perhaps your husband?"

Elisa bit the inside of her cheek as Cailan smiled, "I agree. Why is it that we haven't heard of an engagement for you just yet?"

She returned his smile and bowed her head, "Perhaps I have set my sights higher than a name or title, Your Majesty."

Anora looked confused, "Then what do you require, Lady Cousland?"

Elissa glanced at Nelaros, "I require a warrior willing to give his life for a cause. To stand by his principles no matter the cost to himself."

Anora chuckled, "I'm afraid that you'll not find such a man here. Perhaps in Orzammar."

Elissa smiled, making sure that Anora caught her implication, "Oh no. I've already met the man."

Anora's eyes widened threateningly, "Where? Certainly he is not here." She motioned to Nelaros and Elissa looked surprised.

"Who? Nelaros? No, although I'm flattered that you would think me worthy of him. My sights are not set on an elf."

"Then whom?"

Elissa smiled brightly and with a calculated turn, she glanced about the room, "Ah, do excuse me, your Majesties. I see Bann Teagan waving for me." Cailan waved her off with a smile and both she and Nelaros walked away with Elissa confident that Anora would spend the rest of the evening stewing over her secret love.


	2. Kallain Tabris

"Wake up cousin. It's your big day!" Kallain Tabris groaned and rolled over to face her cousin, who had apparently decided that drinking before noonday would be a good idea. "Huh? What?" Shianni... Did I oversleep?" she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Shianni folded her arms and watched her cousin wake up. "Yes, but your Father and I thought you deserved it. You do remember what today is don't you?" Kallain waved a hand in front of her nose, "Apparently you think it's get drunk before noon day." Shianni sighed and shook her head, "No, you idiot! You're getting married today! Soris too! That's what I came to tell you, your groom – Nelaros – he's here early!"

Kallain sobered instantly at that, her face going pale, "And that means we do it now? I'm not ready!" she erupted from the pallet bed and went to her dressing chest, removing a small pearl handled mirror. Her hair was still tossed from sleep and her face didn't look very well either. She was only eighteen, but there were times – like now – when she looked years older. It wasn't that she wasn't considered beautiful, Maker knew that much, but life in an Alienage could be hard and it had worse to others.

"Well, it's going to happen anyway, so hold your breath and jump in!" Kallain grabbed up one of her everyday shoes and threw it at Shianni, but the girl ducked and the shoe hit the wall behind her. Her tone turned patronizing, "There's going to be music, dancing, decorations, feasting... weddings are so much fun! You're so lucky." Kallain picked up her other shoe and aimed it carefully as she spoke, "Then maybe you should be the one getting married today." Shianni laughed and retrieved the thrown shoe, "All in good time, cousin. This is your day, not mine." Kallain took the shoe from Shianni and stood to get dressed. "All right, I'll stop tormenting you. I should go talk to the other bridesmaids and get my dress.." She was almost out the door when she hesitated and turned back.

"Forget something?" Kallain asked, glancing at Shianni's own trunk of things, the most likely place where the said dress would be. Shianni turned back, "Nothing really important. Soris asked me to tell you that he's waiting outside for you." Kallain nodded. Soris was her elder cousin, by only a few years, but they had been close their entire lives. And when Soris' mother had died, Kallain had begged her father to take him in. hen later that summer Shianni's father had been murdered, Kallain hadn't even needed to ask. Cyrion had simply bunked the spare bed with Kallain's and shared a room with Soris.

She ran a hand through her hair and glanced at herself once again in the mirror. Her hair wasn't long, it hit her shoulders where she had cut it short years ago, but it was an off shade of yellow that when it caught the sunlight it shimmered white. She'd cut it short when training with her mother one summer, she'd been fighting with it for weeks when Adia had finally suggested that she cut it short. It had been in a ponytail everyday ever since then. Her complexion was clear of blemishes and her nose was straight – despite the years of fights in the alleys – but there really wasn't anything she could think that she would want to change about herself... save for her ears.

All her life, Kallain had known and seen how horribly elves were treated by humans. Her mother had been killed while trying to fend off a palace guards unwanted advances and Shianni's father had gone after thieves who had broken into his home. The Alienage wasn't the most inviting place to live and when she was younger she would climb the taller buildings and watch as the humans went about their lives and she would wonder what it would be like to wander through the Denerim and not be singled out because she was an elf. To be able to carry a weapon like the nobility, and not worry about guardsmen accosting her. To not have to bow down to anyone, to not have to cater to anyone's needs but her own.

To see the world outside Denerim.

"Well if it isn't my lucky cousin." Soris had finally found her, she had hidden herself on a rooftop, one of the few spots that was actually dry from the rain two nights ago. She smirked when he revealed a bottle of wine, "Care to celebrate the end of our independence together?" She scooted over and reached for the bottle, "So running away is still an option?" He laughed and popped the cork. After taking a long draw he gave her the bottle and a funny look, "Are you insane? Where would you go? Into the woods to live with the Dalish elves?" She shrugged, "It could happen."

"Right. Live in the forest with savages? Far from humans? Sounds like a dream." It was her turn to swallow and give him a look, "And what's wrong with dreaming?" He shrugged, returning the bottle, "Nothing's wrong with it... we just wouldn't know where to find them." She smirked, "We? Who said you would be joining me?" He angrily took the bottle from her grip, "What about you! Why would you run. Apparently your grooms a dream come true, while my bride sounds like a dying mouse." It took a moment for his words to cut through the alcohol induced buzz she had, "Wait, what? Are you saying my grooms handsome?" He smirked, "I'd trade for him." there was an awkward silence as she thought about what she could say that wouldn't offend him, then Soris spoke, "That came out wrong." She laughed, "Come on. Uncle Cyrion wanted me to introduce you. You'll see what's got the entire Alienage buzzing."

She glanced at the half empty bottle in her hand, "So it isn't the free wine and ale being poured everywhere?" He paused then took another swallow of the wine, "Maybe. C'mon. You'll have to meet him eventually." They made their way down the street, climbing through the window and moving downstairs. They met many tipsy and outright drunken elves on the way. "Shianni's waiting for us by the..." Soris started, then froze as they saw the new group that was arriving. They were led by a burly human man that looked as though he was a somebody. The two men with him walked with an equal amount of swagger. "Uh-oh. This could be trouble."

Kallain glanced at him, then the approaching humans. The leader reached out and grabbed the shoulders one one female elf and tried to kiss her. The girl squirmed away and the man laughed, "This is a party right? Come on, boys! Grab a whore and have a good time!" the man laughed as his gaze fell on Shianni, "Savor the hunt, boys. Take this elven wench here, so young and vulnerable."

Soris bit his lip and whispered, "I know what you're thinking but maybe we shouldn't get involved." Kallain rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, "Objection noted now can we save Shianni?" He gave her a nasty glare, "Okay, but let's try to be diplomatic, shall we?" Kallain nodded slowly and stepped forward, the human leader quickly taking notice of her. He grinned wickedly, "And who's this? Another lovely one come to keep me company?"

Kallain opened her mouth, but before she could speak someone else shouted, "Get away from her, human." The crowd parted to show a taller than average elf with blond hair and brown eyes and dressed in a rather fancy get up moving towards them. The human in front of Kallain laughed, "Do you have any idea who I am?" The newcomer smirked and shrugged, "I could care less even if you were King Cailan himself. You will not harm these women." As they had been speaking, Shianni had grabbed up an empty wine bottle and now cracked the burly human across the back of his skull. He went down like a sack of wheat.

One of the man's companions rushed forward, "Are you insane? This is Vaughn Kendalls! The Arl of Denerim's son!" The tall elf folded his arms across his chest and snorted, "Then his father should have taught him better manners." Vaughn's companion snarled, "Who do you think you are, knife ears!" The newcomer just kept his expression blank and stared at the human, "Someone with better friends than you." The human growled, "You've got a lot of nerve, knife ears. This'll go badly for you." The newcomer raised an eyebrow and simply watched as the two men struggled to get Vaughn's body away from the main square. Shianni came closer, "Oh I really messed up this time." Soris gave Kallain a nervous look, "It'll be alright. He wouldn't dare tell anyone that an elven woman took him down." Kallain nodded, her attention still caught by her cousins savior. Shianni still sounded shaken up, "I hope so. I better go get cleaned up." Kallain nodded and Shianni left, a few of the other girls following, while Soris glanced around, "Is everyone else alright?"

A young elven woman stepped forward through the crowd, "I think we're just a little shaken. What was that about?" Soris laughed, "Ah, it looks like the Arl's son started drinking too early." The tall elf snorted, "If I know anything about Vaughn Kendalls that won't be the last we hear from him..." Soris glanced at the woman, then the tall elf, then Kallain, "This is Valora, my betrothed." The light clicked in Kallain's head and she spoke to the man before her, "And so you must be Nelaros." He bowed and smiled broadly, "A pleasure. Soris said much about you. Some of it was even positive!" Kallain turned as Soris gave a nervous laugh, "Hey, I just wanted you to have a sporting chance to run!" He swallowed, "Anyway, I'm sure the two of you have much to talk about, so..." he led Valora away, leaving Kallain and Nelaros alone in the square. Kallain motioned to a bench beneath the venadhal tree, and suddenly the man was acting completely different, as though he was nervous.

"Well..." he stammered, "Here we are." he glanced at her, "Are you nervous?" She smiled at him, "I was until I saw you. Are you?" He gave her a smile with a strange look, as though he'd heard that somewhere before. "I thought I'd stay calm, but seeing you made me... well, let's just say I'm not calm." She nodded, "So... how was your trip?" He chuckled, "Wet and long. Although we did tag alongside a caravan so we weren't attacked by any bandits... Then again the storm could have helped some with that." Kallain chuckled and bit her lip. Nelaros was about to say something when Soris came up to them, "Don't look now, but we have another problem."

Nelaros was instantly on his feet, scanning around the square. "What? Vaughn hasn't returned has he?" Soris shook his head and pointed at a far corner of the square where a tall white horse was being tied off by a cloaked woman. "Another human just came in. Could be one of Vaughn's or just a random troublemaker." Kallain looked to where he was pointing while Nelaros just smirked, "One human shouldn't cause much trouble." Nelaros began to chuckle and both cousins gave him an odd look, which made him laugh out loud. He waved a hand and shook his head, "Ignore me. I just think this is funny."

"I'm more worried about our boys," Soris continued, "Wine is flowing and after that failed attack they might just try something." Nelaros' jaw clenched and it made Kallain pause for a second, her brow wrinkling. He noticed her look and kissed her forehead gently, "C'mon. Lets go see what's going on."

Kallain took stock of the human as they walked forward. The woman's looks weren't anything really spectacular, she had russet brown hair, done up in twin braids at the base of her head and loose shorter strands coming forward to fall in her eyes. She wore a deep blue traveling cloak with a laurel wreath on her left shoulder, which was more likely to hide the richness of her gown's fabric and it's fancy cut, than to ward off a chill. She carried an oblong box tied with a thick rope and held her head high. She was young, perhaps in her early twenties, but moved with the smooth confidence of an experienced fighter. There was also something about the way she looked about the Alienage, almost with a sense of pity mixed with anger. The woman smiled when she saw them and half bowed when they drew closer. "Good day, I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding."

Kallain smiled, confused, "Thank you, but please leave. We would like to avoid any further unpleasantness." The woman glanced at Nelaros before asking, "To what unpleasantness might you be referring?" Kallain chewed her lower lip, this could go either very well or very bad. She was glad that Nelaros was next to her. "Please, we've already had to deal with one unruly human today. I'm not sure that we can keep the boys from attacking." The woman raised her eyebrows as understanding dawned, then pushed back the edge of her cloak to show the hilt of a short sword on her hip, "Thank you for your concern, but I'm afraid I have no intentions of leaving." Nelaros coughed into his fist and glanced away. Kallain's smile strained and she watched the woman carefully, "Very well. Perhaps we can compromise." The woman smiled brightly and looked at Nelaros, "She keeps her cool even when facing an unknown and armed human. An admirable trait, don't you think, Ros?"

Kallain turned to Nelaros, surprised to see her betrothed hold out his hand and the two of them shake hands. "If only everyone had that approach to battle." The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry," Kallain started, "I had no idea..." The woman smiled and waved it off, "Don't worry about it. I was hardly forthcoming about who I was. I'm Elissa, by the way. Nelaros and I have known each other for years and I hoped that I might attend the wedding." Kallain nodded slowly, "Any friend of Nelaros' is a friend of mine."

"Good, I had hoped that we could be."

Nelaros put a hand on Kallain's shoulder, "Kallain, could you give us a moment? I'll meet you at the platform." Kallain nodded and walked away, waving at her cousin to follow. Elissa watched them move out of earshot before turning to Nelaros, "So... is she everything you thought she'd be?"

"Elissa, I... I can't believe she's going to be my wife."

Elissa patted his arm and lifted the box so that he could take it from her, "I'm so happy for you. In fact, I got you something." He gave her a look then removed the lid. Inside was a finely crafted sword and shield. "Elissa, this is..." She sighed, "Exactly what you deserve as my friend and bodyguard." he lifted to sword from the box and gave it a few practice turns, then put it back into the box. "The Landsmeet went well then?" She rolled her eyes and fussed with the hem of her belled sleeve, "Cailan was his usual exuberant self while Teyrn Loghain wanted to settle the matter in house, without calling on the Orlesians or the Grey Wardens but Cailan was having none of it, and thankfully the nobility agreed with Cailan." She sighed and rubbed her forehead, "I don't know what I'm going to tell Father, however. Highever's best have been called down to Ostagar within the month. That's where Cailan plans to make his 'great stand'."

"And what of Alistair?"

Her eyes widened slightly, "He will be joining them, of course." She blew out her breath, "Anyway. Let's go get you married, eh?"

She was standing a little aside of the main throng, wedding gift carefully stashed aside at Valandrian's home, her cloak pushed back to show her fine court gown. Valandrian was giving a short speech when someone grabbed her arms from behind, "Hmm, and who do we have here?" Elissa's gut rolled at the voice, as slimy as the man who commanded it. The ceremony was beginning and she wrestled slightly against her captor, "If you do anything, Vaughn Kendalls, you will regret it." The man gave her an insipid smile, then leaned in close, forcing her back into the chest of his companion, "Why? You have no power here, Elissa Cousland. I can do whatever I wish to whomever I wish it. I'm the son of the Arl of Denerim!" She spat in his face, "That doesn't give you the right to treat people like this."

Vaughn did laugh then and stormed towards the stage, where he practically ran over the bystanders. Elissa struggled against her captor, but he only adjusted his grip on her by putting one arm around her middle and the other came up with a hand to cover her mouth. She could feel his free hand slide down her side to the hilt of her sword. As the belt and heavy metal clanged against the paving stones, she watched Vaughn climb the short flight of stairs and she fought against the man holding her. He grunted when her elbow connected with his middle, but didn't loosen his grip, only brought his mouth to her ear, "Make another move, and it will be your last." She froze, straining to signal Nelaros to run.

"Forgive me," Vaughn was saying, "but I'm having a party and I seem to be dreadfully short of female guests."

"Milord, this is a wedding!"

Vaughn gave a rough laugh, "If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that's your business, but don't pretend that this is a proper wedding. No, we're here for a good time, aren't we boys?"

"Just a good time with the ladies, that's all." the man holding Elissa shouted as he dragged her forward. Vaughn was walking through the women in the bridal party like he was at the market and it made her sick. "Let's see," he pursed his lips and pointed as he spoke, "we'll take those two, the on in the tight dress and... where's the bitch who bottled me?" The one holding Elissa shouted, "Over here, Lord Vaughn!" Elissa watched helpless as a red headed elf was pushed forward, "Let me go you stuffed shirt son of a ..." Elissa took that moment to bring her elbow hard into her captors gut and stomp on his instep, forcing him to loosen his grip enough to let her get free, then she spun and gave him a strong right hook.

Vaughn watched it all, laughing heartily, "Oh, I'm going to enjoy taming her!" Elissa turned to him, brushing the loose strands from her eyes and snarling. "Lay a finger on them and you'll pay." He sighed and shook his head, "Oh my dear Elissa. I will do what I please, as I please. Remember?" he glanced around, "See the pretty bride? Such a well formed little thing." Elissa let out a shout and leaped at Vaughn's back only to bonce off it as though it were a brick wall. He turned to her, lying on the ground now, "I thought I told you to stay out of this!" She didn't see it coming or she would have dodged, but his foot lashed out and caught her in the stomach. She was gasping for air when her hair was yanked backward, forcing her to look up into Vaughn's face.

"You villans!" Nelaros growled, stepping between Vaughn and Kallain. Vaughn released Elissa's hair and turned on him, his wrath at full power. "Ah, yes. The uppity runt who thinks he's worthy of speaking to me. Don't worry, I'll return what's left of them in time for the honeymoon." Elissa groaned and tried to get to her knees, but Vaughn stepped back on her, forcing her to her belly.

She raised her head to glare at him, "I'll see you dead for this, Vaughn Kendalls. You will pay for what you've done here." Vaughn kicked her again, knocking her unconscious, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. "I'll kill you." Nelaros spat as Vaughn approached him and took the swing that should have knocked him out. Vaughn gave Nelaros a vile grin and raised his own fist but before he could finish his swing, Kallain stepped closer to him and grabbed his arm, "Please, my lord. Leave the other girls be. I'll go with you." He looked down at her, paused for only a moment, then finished the punch, catching Nelaros in the jaw and sending him backwards into the wall.

"Back to the palace boys!" Vaughn shouted, grabbing up Kallain around her waist and slinging her over his shoulder. They went away, dragging the other girls, laughing their heads off. Once they were past the gate Mother Boann knelt beside Elissa and gave a sigh of relief to see that she was still breathing. Valandrian was checking on Nelaros when Elissa finally came to. "Lady Cousland?" Mother Boann shook her shoulder gently, "Lady Cousland, are you alright?" Elissa let out a groan, spat blood onto the ground, then shook her head, "Maker's blood, that man knows how to kick!" She swore heavily under her breath as she sat up, holding her side. "Where did he take them?"

The priest sighed, "Back to the arl's palace I'd imagine. The elder is helping your friend Nelaros, but I'm afraid he's going to need to calm everyone soon, they're very upset." Elissa snorted, "Of course they're upset! I can't believe this happened." She tried to stand but ended up stumbling into Mother Boann instead, "I should go see if I can help at all." The crowd had gathered outside of Valendrian's house and the elder was trying to calm the crowd as she approached, wiping the blood from her chin with a small handkerchief. "Please all of you!" He was saying, his hands raised in a placating action. She moved to Nelaros' side at the forefront of the group, him being the only thing that was keeping the men at bay. "Please listen. I know you're upset and with good reason, but there is nothing that we can do right now."

Elissa nodded, "I agree. As much as I hate Vaughn, going after them right now will only make things worse." Soris glared at her, "So we do nothing!? They took both my cousins and my bride!" She looked at Nelaros who appeared to share a mind with Soris, "He can't possibly think he'll get away with this." He whispered to her, an anxious look on his face. She knew that look. As angry as he was, as much as he wanted to storm in and save his girl, he was still an elf. And elves raising weapons against humans only meant trouble.

A woman beside them snorted, "You talk like he hasn't gotten away with this before." Elissa turned to Valandrian, "What does that mean?" The elder sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Normally I'd counsel patience. Unfortunately, stories about the arl's son and his appetites are... most disturbing," Elissa's blood ran cold, "What kinds of stories?"

"Last year the blacksmith's daughter worked as a chambermaid at the arl's palace. Local children found her washed up under the dock. She'd been … well, Vaughn had had his way with her." Elissa swallowed hard, "Vaughn has never been so bold, but with Arl Urien away who know what he thinks he can get away with."

Nelaros snarled, "If he touches any of them, he's dead." Soris was nodding his agreement while Cyrion opened his hands, pleading, "Please, both of you! The focus should be on saving those poor women, not revenge." Nelaros roughly grabbed Elissa's chin and raised her head so that they all could see the bruises forming on her face, "Revenge? Oh no, Cyrion. This is my duty!" He released her, then folded his arms. "But you are right, what can we do? We're talking about the arls' palace. Even with the Arl and his knights gone, it will be guarded."

A smaller man stepped forward, almost timidly, "Elder, might I offer a suggestion? I work at the palace. I might be able to sneak one, maybe two others in through the servants entrance. Nobody will notice an extra pair of elves looking around." Elissa had seen the look now coming over Nelaros' face before. The plan was sound, and it might just work, but he was out for blood. "If the women are in there it will mean a fight," she said, the crowd growing quieter as she spoke. "If anyone can get in and get them out of there alive, it's you Nelaros. But you'll need weapons." She grabbed up her shortsword from it's place beside Valendrian and handed it to him. "Take this, you can hide it easier than a long sword. A man should be able to defend his family." He took the sword, bowed to her, then took off behind Soris and the serving elf.

Valendrian came to her as the crowd began to dissipate, "Come, Lady Cousland. It might be safer for you to stay at my home until they return."

"How long do you think they'll be?"

"Hopefully no more than an hour. But only the Maker knows for sure."

Technically it was an hour and another half, and they came back short two women and Soris. Valendrian and Elissa met them at the gate. "You have returned. Has Shianni been hurt? Where's Tormey's daughter, Nola?"

"Nola didn't make it," Valora said, her voice pained, "She resisted and they... they killed her." Elissa looked at Nelaros, noticing the small tick in his jaw as he tightened his grip on Kallain's shoulder and frowned. She knew what he was thinking. He was blaming himself for the deaths of all of them, if only he'd gotten there sooner...

Valendrian nodded slowly, "Can you ladies please take Shianni home?" Valora took Shianni's hand and led them group away, but Nelaros kept hold of Kallain, as though she was the only thing keeping him sane right now. "Tell me what happened." Nelaros spoke to Elissa, "Vaughn's dead." She nodded, "Then the garrison will already be on its way. We will have little time." Nelaros turned to Kallain, "We may have to leave Denerim for a little while."

Elissa couldn't imagine what this all must be like for the poor girl; abducted from her wedding, rescued by her husband and then told that she would have to leave her home. Kallain knew that what they had done in the palace would go badly for the elves here, that Vaughn's murder – however justified – meant death. Nelaros, and by extension the Lady Cousland, was offering her a way out. A chance to live with him... and without her family. She needed time to think! She had to process this, it was all so much... unfortunately she could already hear the steady clink of metal clad feet descending the steps into the Alienage. The lookout came running, his voice frantic, "They're coming! The guards are coming!" She was cornered again, lost without a way out. She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped backwards into a solid wall of flesh. She looked up at Nelaros as he put an arm around her waist and held her close, "Don't panic. Let's just see what happens."

It was a trio of guards that approached the group, the captain addressing Valendrian. "I seek Valendrian, leader and administrator of the Alienage." Valendrian bowed, "I am Valendrian. I take it you have come in response to today's disruption?"

"Don't play ignorant with me, elder. You will not prevent justice from being done. The arl's son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace. I need names and I need them now." Nelaros pushed Kallain behind him and stepped forward, "If someone needs to be punished, then punish me. I did it." The captain scoffed, "You expect me to believe one man did all of that?" Valendrian gave a half smile, "We are not all so helpless, Captain." The man shook his head, "You've saved many by coming forward. I don't envy your fate, but I applaud your courage. This elf will wait in the dungeon's until the arl returns." Kallain gave Elissa a nervous glance hoping that she could do something, but Elissa was already a step ahead of her. "Captain... a word, if you please." The captain glanced at her before bowing grandly, "What is it, Lady Cousland? The situation is under control, as you can see."

Elissa nodded, "Yes, but please. I ask only for a moment of your time." The captain rolled his eyes, but allowed her to continue. "As you know, this weeks was the king's Landsmeet to prepare to go south and deal with the darkspawn problem. My father, Teyrn Cousland, sent me in his place. I brought only one servant with me, this elf that you have apprehended. Nelaros and I went to the arl's palace in hopes of speaking with Arl Urien and delivering a message for him from my father, but when we arrived Lord Vaughn had me – ME – taken captive. Why, I don't rightly know, but I heard many of the servants whispering about a forced marriage between Vaughn and myself. Vaughn had broached the subject before with my father but he was turned down, saying that he wouldn't have me feed any man's ambition." Nelaros struggled slightly, "My lady, please..." She ignored him and continued, "I sent a young woman, Kallain here, to be sure about the rumors. Once she confirmed them, Kallain procured me a weapon and we escaped."

The captain rubbed his chin, "Even so, was it necessary to kill Lord Vaughn?" Elissa played the blushing maid well, kicking a loose stone by her foot and turning as red as she could manage, while Kallain spoke, "I, um, arrived too late, ser. The Lady Cousland had been taken to Lord Vaughn's rooms by the time I arrived and I was barely able to reach Nelaros in the stable to save her ladyships honor." The captain looked at Nelaros who nodded, "It's true, ser. I was given express direction from Teyrn Cousland to protect the Lady Elissa by any means necessary, even if it meant taking a life." The captain looked around the small group, as though gauging their earnestness. "Why not write your father?"

Elissa was ready for it, "Even with clear weather it takes a pigeon at least two days to reach Highever from Denerim. And the army that my Father would undoubtedly bring couldn't be mobilized for another two days, let alone travel that fast. Even in Highever we've heard of Lord Vaughn's... appetites. It is then needless to say that I not only feared for my honor, but also my life. When Nelaros and Kallain came to help me I leaped at the chance to get away. Vaughn fought us... his death was not meant to happen." Exasperated, the captain threw up his hands, "Enough. I've heard enough. Release him." The guards looked dumbfounded, "Release him, I said!" As the guards unshackled Nelaros the captain pointed at Elissa, "While I may regret this, I'm going to let him go on the condition that you leave Denerim as soon as possible. Vaughn Kendalls may not have been well loved by the people, but he was still nobility. I suggest you return to Highever and warn your father to prepare for battle with Arl Urien."

"We shall leave by nightfall, ser. Thank you, captain." The man waved it off, "I supposed even elves can understand honor." As they left Nelaros turned to Elissa and took her hand gratefully, "What about Kallain? I came here to marry her and I cannot abandon her." Elissa shrugged, "She can come with us. I'm sure Mother can get her a posting with either myself or Oriana." she smiled, "Knowing Mother, she'll likely place her as my handmaid."

Nelaros turned to Kallain, "So what of it. Will you come with me to Highever?" Kallain looked to Elissa, "What would I be required to do as your handmaid?" Elissa shrugged again, "I've never had one before. So I couldn't say, to be honest. I suppose you would be more of a companion to me than anything else. I wouldn't dare have you wait on me when I can take care of myself." she wrinkled her nose, "Worst case scenario, you'll be my sparring partner with weapons training. You do know how to handle a sword, don't you?" Kallain nodded nervously, and Elissa smiled widely, "Good. I'd hate to think that I walloped you just because you didn't know what you were doing." Kallain smiled, she liked this girl! "Go, say your goodbyes. We'll meet you at the North Road gate, with supplies and horses. Bring only that which you can't live without, we have to travel light and fast." She cocked an eyebrow at Kallain's look. "Unless you want to walk the entire way to Highever." Kallain shook her head emphatically, "Good. I'd thought not."

They were two days out from Highever when Kallain sat next to Nelaros by the fire... on purpose. She waited until he had a mouthful of food before speaking, "I, uh... I suppose I should thank you. For saving my life." Elissa watched as Nelaros nearly choked, and bit down a laugh, Kallain didn't look like someone who was used to thanking someone for anything.

Nelaros swallowed and spoke slowly, "They had no right to do what they did. I couldn't... I couldn't let them do that to you." Elissa's half eaten plate of stew suddenly became very interesting as she tried to hide on the other side of the fire, "You barely know me! You'd just met me! I don't... I was sure that Soris would come; I half expected my father but you..."

Nelaros turned to her, a very serious look on his face. He watched her for a second before speaking, "Arranged match or no, Kallain, I couldn't let you get hurt like that. I couldn't let it happen again." He ignored her look of confusion and took one of her hands in his, absently running a thumb over her knuckles, "I don't know about you, but I'm terrified about the prospect of sharing my home, let alone my life with someone. The Couslands have given you a great opportunity to take control of your life and I... I don't want to stand in your way." Kallain drew in her chin and watched him walk to the horses, confused.

Elissa waited a moment before 'pssting' at Kallain and sliding closer to speak without Nelaros overhearing. "Don't be angry with him, Kallain. He's been through a lot."

Kallain cocked an eyebrow and huffed, "Like what?" Elissa smirked, "Sorry, poor choice of words. What I meant was that he's not as confident as he tries to be sometimes." She took a deep breath, "Four years ago, he fell in love with a beautiful young girl. She was everything he thought he wanted, but she broke his heart. Left him, without explanation, for another man." She shook her head, "Damn girl moved in with her new husband right next door to him. My father gave him a house in the human village after hearing about it, and he's lived there ever since. Alone."

"The village?" Elissa nodded, "Yes." Kallain chewed her lip, "What did he mean by 'happening again'?" Elissa glanced in Nelaros' direction but he was busy with the horses, making sure they were properly tethered. "He lost his sister to a human attack. In a very similar manner to what happened to you, only she was, uh, walking through the market in Amaranthine. It was one of Arl Howes men at arms." She smirked and pushed her food around her plate a bit, "It was one of the few times I've seen my father use his command of Howe to do something. I've never seen him so mad. Father did everything he could for Nelaros and his family, but in the end Valena couldn't handle the stress of being marked as a humans victim and she moved away. Went to Kirkwall I think... it's why he said you were in control of your life. He couldn't save his sister, but he was able to save you. I think I know what he wants, he'd love to see history play out the way it was supposed to, but he knows that you are your own person and he isn't the type to take that away from you."


	3. Faren Brosca and Serada Aeducan

It was difficult to specifically tell time beneath the surface. Or so it seemed that way to outsiders – surfacers, as the dwarves called them – but when the Proving bell chimed, it would tell you the hour. That's what the servant cast was for, after all, and according to the bell and the criers, it was half past the tenth hour and well into another day. Faren grumbled as he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the main room of his home. He could hear Beraht ripping into Rica; something about paying for her clothes and singing lessons and her not giving him anything in return.

"I can't keep gambling on you forever, princess. You've got a sweet look, something to light a man on fire, but you got to make it count."

Rica looked up from her seat at Faren as he entered, "Please, Beraht. Can we _not_ do this in front of my brother?"

Beraht turned and waved Faren over, "Why not? He knows the slope of the land, don't you boy?"

Faren glanced at Rica. She was the only real family he had – a mother who preferred the drink to his face didn't count – the only really good thing in his life and he hated the way Beraht treated her, but... "Don't worry. She'll find a man or she'll answer to me."

Beraht humphed, "She better, or everything I lose comes out of **your** hide." Beraht turned back to Rica, circling her like a vulture, "Before me your sister was just another duster. Now check her out, braids down to here, perfect teeth, able to recite elven poetry and play the string harp. Every man's dream!" Not exactly Faren's, but he kept silent, "All she's gotta do is find a lord, squeeze out a kid who looks like him and we're all living the easy life in the Diamond Quarter."

Faren's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, "So what are you doing here?"

Beraht looked surprised, though Faren doubted the sincerity of it. Beraht knew exactly which buttons to push to get Faren angry and Rica was a big one. Beraht turned on Rica, suddenly all business, "I'm giving you one week, precious. If you haven't found a patron, you're back sweeping streets."

Faren growled, no one threatened Rica.** No one**. Yet before he could say anything Rica jumped up and began to pace, almost reading his thoughts. "But I _have_ met someone. I didn't want to promise but he seemed interested. It's nothing definite, but he said he wanted to see me again."

Faren smirked, "There. You see? I told you we would deliver!"

Beraht snarled and spat at Faren's feet, "Excuse me if I don't start making booties." He turned to him, pointing a chubby, hairy finger in his face, "And until I do **you're** gonna work of her debts by working for the Carta." The two men glared at each other, "You're buddy Leske's waiting outside with your job. Don't bungle this one!"

Faren watched Beraht leave before turning back to Rica and shucking her chin, making the corner of her mouth twitch, "Don't worry Rica. We'll be out of this cesspool, soon enough, and then you won't have to kiss up to Beraht or anyone else ever again."

Rica's smile widened, then she grew very serious, "I just wish you didn't have to be so mean. Why can't other's see this side of you?"

His eyes flashed and he glanced at the thick lump of flesh at the table that was their mother, sleeping off yet another drinking binge, "Because love is a weakness, remember?" She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around her, lightly embracing her, "A weakness we can ill afford to have."

Her name was Serada, commander of Orzammar's armies, the only daughter of King Endrin Aeducan, and she knew what had to be done. The Aeducan Thaig was only a few days march away from Orzammar and she was leading a small expedition to retrieve a shield. Yay... she was so excited.

She was just finishing curling her braids and pinning them in place when she heard the door to her room open, and Gorim's familiar step. "Greetings, my lady." he began, bowing low as she stood and turned to look at him. "You are dressed and ready, excellent. I couldn't find the armors matching sword, but I did find a rather wicked looking dagger. Do you wish to wear your shield to the feast?"

She chewed her lip, thoughtful. Gorim handed her the dagger and she flipped it into the air, catching it deftly by the handle and sheathing it on her waist. After a moment she nodded, set in her purpose, "Yes. Let them see me as a warrior."

"As opposed to a Paragon of Beauty?"

She raised an eyebrow, popped a hip and smiled saucily, "Close the door and I'll show you a paragon of beauty."

He laughed, "Don't you remember how this went for your cousin Marteth? I'll get undressed and one of your brothers or cousins appears and thrashes me." He shook his head, then continued, "Thoughts for after the feast, I suppose." He winked at her, then moved back to more important matters. She shook her head, "What shall we do in the meantime?"

Gorim shrugged, "Lord Harrowmont's opened the Provings in your honor. Rumor has it that he hopes some well placed noble will sweep you off your feet."

She rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead, "Harrowmont's been playing matchmaker ever since I came of age." She looked at him through lowered lashes and snorted, "We should tell him I already have all the man I need."

He laughed, "Why not! Let's also hang a sign around my neck that says 'Assassinate me before Lady Aeducan marries beneath herself!'"

"When you put it that way, I could use a little sweeping off my feet."

His voice dropped and he stepped closer, making sure that she was the only one who heard him whisper huskily, "Well then, I've got a well built magical broom just for you." He stepped back, watching her carefully, "But that's for later. What should we do now?"

She took a deep breath, "I need to get out of the palace for a moment, let's go see what the merchants have to offer.."

She stood before the royal dias, her armor freshly scrubbed and gleaming in the torchlight, a special made dagger strapped to her back and her mind reeling from Trian's verbal attack earlier. Her father was speaking with the head of Houses Bemot and Meino, something about trade agreements with the surface, something she thought her father could change his mind about.

When he saw her, Endrin Aeducan waved off the still arguing lords and stood to hug her, "Atrast Vala, daughter." he released the hug and looked down at her, "How fine you look in your grandmother's armor." Endrin led her up the dias to her place at the place of honor at the high table. "Are you ready to be presented to the heads of the noble houses?" They were standing before their seats, servants with heavy laden trays standing behind them, waiting for her word.

She nodded, "Of course, Father."

He smiled wide, "So dutiful, sweet daughter. Very well, let us begin!" He turned to the assembled nobles, all waiting for the royals to be seated in order for them to take their seats. "Lords, Ladies, grant me a moment of your time. I give you Orzammar's next commander!" A cheer went up and great bellows accompanied by thunderous applause and stomping of feet. "Tomorrow, our newest commander will lead part of a mission to strike a great blow to the darkspawn," More cheering, "Not only does it recover access to some of our most important mines, but also allows our honored guest Duncan," she glanced at her left where a squad of humans stood waiting with the other nobles, "Leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens to strike far into the Deep Roads!"

One of the older looking humans – with silver streaked hair – stepped forward and bowed respectfully to her father. "Thank you, King Endrin. While the darkspawn seem to withdraw, it is only because they are amassing on the surface. This may mean a new Blight, and my men and I will discover the truth."

Her father nodded, "We are honored to have you with us, my friend. Please, join us, at our table. Now everyone! Feast, drink and celebrate, for tomorrow brings battle!" Another chorus of cheers rose as the nobles took their seats and the servants began to arrange the plates of roast nug, surface fruits and decadent pastries. Serada sat with her father on her right, at the head of the table, and Gorim on her left while Duncan sat across from her – cross legged on a cushion to accommodate his long human limbs.

Duncan smiled genially, then spoke, "It is an honor to finally meet you, Lady Aeducan."

"Finally? Have you been waiting for me?"

He shook his head, "Not as such, but your father never misses a chance to boast of your skill and bravery. He says you may be the most skilled warrior in all of House Aeducan."

Her eyes widened briefly as she thought of what Trian would say to that, then glanced at her father who was now speaking with Lord Dace, "My father does me much honor, but he greatly exaggerates."

The human smiled, "Your humility aside, I have no doubt you will be a fighter of great renown. We need more Grey Wardens like you and quickly. Even as the darkspawn weaken in Orzammar they are stirring on the surface. Most certainly we face another Blight."

Her glass of expensive surface wine sat ignored as she spoke with the Grey Warden, "I thought your men were going to confirm or deny that tomorrow."

The young blond man seated next to Duncan stirred and he spoke gently, "That is correct, Lady Aeducan. And if we do confirm a Blight, it means that soon the fight must go beyond the Deep Roads or the darkspawn will threaten all the world."

She chewed her lip again, thinking. "I wonder if Father would allow me to join with you."

Duncan laughed gently as her comment brought Endrin's attention to them fully, a fierce scowl on his face, "Alas, I do not think he would take very kindly to that suggestion."

The younger blond looked confused, "But Duncan, if the Lady wishes to join us, why turn her away?" The king shifted in his seat, summoning a lesser noble over and purposely ignoring the group as they continued to speak, but not without casting a warning look to Duncan.

Ducncan took a slow breath, recognizing that this was a sensitive subject. "Alistair, as child of the king and heir after Lord Trian, the Lady's place is here."

Serada was confused, she hadn't meant that she wanted to Join the Grey Wardens, only that she wished to fight with them. "Perhaps a compromise might be reached. I may not allowed to join you outright, but I might travel with you. Help in your fight against the darkspawn."

Alistair's eyebrows shot into his hairline, "You would do that?"

"Why not?" She shrugged, "All I've ever wanted to do is protect Orzammar and the dwarven people. What better way to do that than to do that than by traveling with you?"

Duncan was nodding, "Truly. Then I will speak with your father after the battle tomorrow. I have my doubts that he will relent, but there's always hope." Thankfully Alistair let the subject drop and the table fell into a more companionable conversation, much of it centering around the other two wardens teasing Alistair about some young maid he'd left behind at a place called Highever. Alistair's cheeks were turning very red as he tried valiantly to defend to woman's honor, but by the way the others were laughing Serada could tell that he was failing miserably. Duncan was laughing right along with them. Serada looked between Alistair and Duncan, "If you care for this Lady Elissa, Alistair, why not pursue her honestly?" All laughter died and the two others looked to Duncan while Alistair seemed to lose interest in his food.

"Because Grey Wardens tend to die young and have difficulty in bearing children. Lady Elissa is the daughter of a very powerful and well respected teyrn. She is expected to bear sons to inherit her husbands and father's lands. She is heir after her brother, much as you are after Lord Trian, and has obligations to her people much as you do. Alistair would be wise to pursue nothing more than friendship with her. Save her the heartache."

Alistair's plate was still half full when he pushed it away from himself and drank deeply from his goblet. This was clearly a conversation they'd had before, and one that Alistair hadn't quite agreed with the ending to. Duncan then stood, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "If you will forgive me, Your Majesty, we have some things to prepare for the trek tomorrow. I beg your leave to head back to our apartments." King Endrin nodded and the four humans left.

Once they were gone the Proving trainer moved from his seat to speak better with Serada and Gorim, "So have you two heard about the scandal that happened last week?" Gorim gave the trainer a suspicious look, "We've been preparing for tomorrow's battle and have had little time for gossip."

"The Grey Wardens have been in Orzammar looking for recruits, as you heard, so the Warrior caste held a proving in their honor. The goal was for the Grey Wardens to recruit the winner."

Serada was intrigued and leaned on her elbows, "So what happened?"

The trainers voice dropped and his eyes brightened, "Some casteless duster wore Ser Everd's armor and won the Proving!"

Serada's head snapped back and she gave a hearty laugh, "Good for him! I hope they took him!"

Gorim snorted, "My lady likes to shake things up."

The trainer raised an eyebrow, "That's just it, my lady. After he was arrested, some duster thugs came and took him from the dungeons, supposedly on the word of the Carta boss, Beraht. No one's heard from him since."

Faren shook his head and instantly regretted it. Stars exploded behind his eyes and he could feel where blood had caked in his hair and dried on his skin. "Psst! Hey! You awake?" it was Leske, and he sounded worried. Faren groaned and sat up slowly, using the bars of his cell as crutches. "How hard did they sodding hit you anyway? Did you have to put up so much of a fight?"

Faren grinned, his left eye swollen shut and his right foggy, "I just hope I took some of them down with me."

"Oh you did. And don't think they didn't show me their appreciation. One of the guards recognized me and thought we must have been working together. They burned three candles to the stump interrogating me about who had put us up to it. I think they knew, you know, about Beraht." Faren risked opening his eyes again and nearly lost his balance. He tightened his grip on the bars and looked around through slitted eyes, limiting the amount of light assaulting his retinas. They were in a pair of cells, somewhat adjacent to each other in what appeared to be in a dungeon. Leske was still talking, "...There cells are built straight into the walls and they confiscated all my lockpicks. What's it look like on your end, do you see a way out?"

There were footsteps on the stone outside and they both held their breath as Jarvia – Beraht's top lieutenant and rumored lover – approached, her face difficult to read. She stopped in front of Faren's cell, well outside of his reach, and smirked, "Good. You're awake. Beraht will be glad to hear that." Faren bit his tongue and glared at her through his one good eye, "You caused a lot of trouble today. Beraht lost a hundred sovereigns to Lord Vollney, the entire Proving was declared invalid and the Assembly has already called for an investigation. You can't imagine the state Beraht was in when he told me to get you. If it had been up to me I would have let you rot in their dungeon for a few more days but Beraht didn't want to risk not getting the chance to kill you himself. So count yourself lucky you only had to endure a week," She smiled wickedly, "Enjoy your last night together boys. Beraht'll be by to make sure you maintain your silence."

Faren growled and shouted at her retreating back, "If Beraht lays one hand on my sister I'll see that you all pay!" Jarvia didn't flinch, didn't even pause as she walked away. Faren shook the bars, despite knowing they wouldn't move beneath even his powerful muscle. "We're getting out of here." He growled at Leske, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Didn't you hear me? They confiscated my lockpicks!"

A guard turned at the racket Faren was making and walked towards them, raising a wicked looking club. "Cut off your noise! You're giving me a headache!" the club whacked against the bars of Faren's cell but the warrior didn't move.

"The bars of this cell are a little loose. You really should get them fixed." The guard leaned forward to inspect the bar that Faren was pointing at his mouth opening to speak when Faren reached through the bars and grabbed the man by the hair, slamming his face against the bars. The dwarf let out a harsh yelp of pain while Faren growled at him, his expression dangerous. "You will live only as long as I don't see you. You may not deserve to die yet, but you will if I ever see you again!" The guard squirmed but Faren just pulled harder on the hair in is grip and the guard stopped, "You will run to the city guard, duster, and you will tell them that the casteless bastard that won their precious Proving will be at the shop off the Commons Causeway in two hours." Faren pulled back on the dwarf's head to look him on the eyes and showed the key to the cells in his hand, an unholy fire in his eyes. "You tell them that I want my sister brought to me and if she isn't I will personally see to it that that every warrior in Orzammar knows her name, because they will be saying it with their dying breath." With that he released the dwarf, throwing him backwards onto his ass. The dwarf scrambled away from the bars and out of sight while Faren worked on the cells lock.

Once he was out he opened Leske's cell, "Remind me not to get you angry, salroka." Faren smirked then kicked up a large battleaxe and Leske relieved a sleeping guard of his daggers. "You really mean all that? About killing the warrior caste?" Faren just stalked down the passageway, his shoulders taut with anger, "Alright then. You won't make good on that without killing every dwarf in here." Faren gave his stolen battleaxe a few practice swings, letting the blade cut deep into the softer stone of a table.

"No one," he looked up at Leske, "NO ONE threatens my sister."

"I'm cutting the girl loose. If that brother of hers can't remember his place, I'm getting rid of Rica too." Faren saw red as he listened to Beraht talk about Rica's death so casually. Leske watched is friend bring up his battleaxe and tighten his grip, the leather on the handle crackling. He recognized the sound coming from Faren's throat, it was the same one he'd heard thousands of times before when they'd been called to "take care" of someone for Beraht. Now Beraht was going to learn what it was like to eat metal. Faren stalked forward, closer to Beraht as he stood in the center of his throne room. Beraht finally turned and saw them. He cocked an eyebrow, "Look what crawled out of its cage.

Faren set his jaw and thinned his eyes, "You will leave my sister alone!"

Beraht raised and eyebrow and mocked Faren, "Leave my sister alone." he chuckled, "I plan to! Just as soon as she pays her debts." Beraht usually dodged better than that, but Faren's anger was faster. Leske watched as his friend swung his axe wide, slicing through Beraht's chainmail and stomach like paper. Blood and gore and entrails slipped through Beraht's fingers as he tried to hold it in, his eyes glued to Faren as his knees buckled and he hit the floor. Faren turned his momentum around for a second arc and cleanly removed Beraht's head. The two other dwarves with Beraht ran once the Carta boss fell, but died once they felt the throwing knife in their backs.

Faren stood over the headless body, his adrenaline still pumping while he tried to control his breathing. Leske moved around the room, looting what he could and retrieving his weapons from Beraht's dead guards. It was over! It was all over, all those years of kissing up to this cave tick and it was all over in a single swing of an axe. Faren started to laugh, he should have done this years ago! Leske stared at him as though he'd lost his mind while he laughed, dropping his axe and resting his hands on his knees as it washed over him.

It was all over!

The Proving bell chimed and Faren straightened up and Leske smirked. He was back. "C'mon." Faren tilted his head to the back exit, the tunnel leading to the Carta's shop. "We've got half a candle to get Rica." Leske nodded and led the way out of the tunnel and through the shops door.

"There they are! Seize the fugitives!" Leske turned to see Faren facing off against what appeared to be a legion of the city guard. Faren's hands twisted the grip on his axe and Leke heard him growl, "Go on, try and stop me." Apparenly Faren's earlier message had gotten through because as Faren spoke Rica pushed her way through the clumped guards, a human tight on her heels. "I just killed Beraht, you should be thanking me." The Proving master looked shocked, "He's dead? Beraht had many enemies but he also had some powerful allies. They won't..." Leske moved to stand beside Faren, "Beraht would have killed us!"

The human folded his arms watching Faren intently, "Your friend has once again demonstrated his courage. We Grey Wardens travel far and wide in search of those with the potential to join our ranks. It seems I have found one." Faren glanced at Rica, their connection as siblings giving them a way to converse without words. Their silent conversation lasted only a moment before Faren asked, "What's in it for you, human?"Duncan exhaled, then extended his hand in friendship, "Let me make my offer formal then. I, Duncan, of the Grey Wardens extend the invitation for you to join our Order." The Proving Master looked as though he was about to explode, "You can't be serious! This is a casteless knave that defiled the Provings and is suspected in many murders across the city! You can't think that he's WORTHY of being a WARDEN!" Faren again looked at Rica, whose eyes were wide with terror. After a few tense seconds she straightened her shoulders and nodded slowly. Faren grinned at Duncan. "Then sodding YES! Let's get out of here!" Duncan smiled, gripped Faren's hand in a firm handshake and then grew very serious. "Then before these witnesses I hearby recruit you into the Grey Wardens. You should know that many tests await you, including a trek through the Deep Roads to rejoin my group." The men standing around them began to disperse, Duncan led him and Rica to the gates barring the Diamond Quarter, "We are going with Orzammar's new commander tomorrow morning to delve into the Deep Roads and see what we can find out about this Blight." They were about to pass through the gate when Duncan stopped and looked at him, "I recommend you stay close. Grey Warden recruit or no, you will not be treated well until you have completed the Joining." Faren snorted and put his axe across his back, "They want a fight, they'll get one."

Serada felt sick to her stomach as her group entered the main cavern. There, standing proud in his best armor was Trian and a complement of his personal guard. He looked angry, and not that "you've done something foolish again" sort of angry, but that "blood boiling, head will roll" kind that meant certain death when he got that way. Her step slowed and she gave Gorim a quick glance as they drew inevitably closer. Her heart was in her throat and she couldn't stop her palms from sweating within her gloves. Maybe, just maybe, this whole scene could be averted! Maybe Bhelen's intel was wrong.

"Atrast Vala, sister." His tone was sharp, cutting her deep. This was no longer the loving elder brother that had helped her learn to walk, to read, to lead. This Trian was the one that sentenced men to their death, Prince Trian, heir to the throne of Orzammar and feared by the Assembly.

And it broke her heart.

"Trian, we should speak... alone."

"Anything you have to say can be said here, in front of our men." she swallowed, preparing to speak, but he beat her to it. "That the nobles love you when you have accomplished nothing, I have learned to forgive." Her brow wrinkled, "You would turn against me for that?! And who are you to claim that I have done nothing? I told Father that I would earn this title and I have!"

Trian blustered, "And you've done so without losing a single man! This I find impossible to believe. The Deeps ALWAYS claim a life, no one can have your perfect track record." He shook his head, "I know I will never be loved in Orzammar, but I. Will. Rule. Nothing, not even treacherous kin, will stop me from claiming my right! You and your companions will throw down your weapons, confess your treason and be tried in front of the Assembly."

She lowered her eyes to the floor and took a deep breath. So Bhelen was right after all. "We will do no such thing, brother. For we have done nothing." Then her once caring, loving elder brother snarled and raised his hammer, "Then you will die here!"

The sound of metal grating on stone shook her from her memories. Three days she'd been in this cell and all three days she had prayed to the Ancestors that nothing would befall Gorim. He'd only followed her orders, done what he'd always had. It wouldn't be fair to him to punish him for something she'd led him into. Now she struggled to her feet and rubbed her eyes; despite being dim the torch the guard carried was the only light in the hall. But it wasn't just the guard on patrol this time, he had company.

"I...I would have come sooner, had they allowed it. How are you?" She shuffled forward, the chains on her ankles limiting her step. Her hands curled around the thick bars of her cell and smirked, "I've been worse." Gorim put his hands over hers and the guard turned his back to them, glancing up and down the corridor, "I can only give you an hour, Ser. Then I must re-lock the cell and leave." He handed the keys to Gorim then continued down his path. Once he was out of earshot and the door was opened she heaved a sigh, "I haven't been sleeping well, but I'm fine. I was more worried about you." He stood in the open doorway, drinking in her dirty face and simple clothing. "And I for you, my heart. Though I bring little but bad news. Bhelen took Trian's place on the Assembly and he introduced a motion to condemn you immediately, and it easily passed. He... he had fully half the Assembly in his pocket, ready to vote on something completely against tradition and justice."

She could tell Gorim was furious, but really, she wasn't surprised. Playing Orzammar politics was no different than playing at war. Bhelen had watched Trian bungle his way through many an Assembly, facing his enemies and attacking threats head on. She had taught Bhelen a different tactic, to go in a back route, lull the enemy into a sense of security and then strike. Bhelen knew how to play the game, and had played his hand well. "So then, Bhelen will be king when Father passes."

Gorim snorted, "I'm afraid so. And the Assembly has already sentenced both of us." Her head snapped back to him, her eyes having wandered behind him to the cracked stone of the wall. If she knew Bhelen, this wouldn't be the most gracious of deaths. For either of them. "What's happening to you?"

My knighthood has been revoked, my name torn from my family, but I will be allowed to attempt some sort of life on the surface. Lord Harrowing moved for a similar exile for you, but Bhelen's supporters overwhelmed him." He rolled his eyes, "He must have been making alliances and deals for months. If not years." His gaze turned soft as he met her eyes, "Because of that, you are to be sealed in the Deep Roads, to fight darkspawn until you are overwhelmed and killed." She snorted, "The cowards weren't strong enough to kill me themselves."

Gorim smiled, "And that may be Bhelen's first mistake. I was snuck in here to tell you that the Grey Wardens are still in the Deep Roads and they're supposed to be near to the place where you will be placed. You could fight your way to them and escape with Duncan." She smiled tightly and nodded, "That's all the chance I need." Gorim returned her nod and moved to leave, but she reached out, grabbing his arm, "Wait! Please..." He looked back at her, pain etched on his features, "We have no time, my heart." She blinked away the hot tears threatening to spill. Gorim had been her second for years and now she would never see him again. It hurt more than she expected. "Please... Just hold me. One last time." He glanced down the hall where the guard had disappeared, they still had most of the hour left, "We can't. The guards won't keep quiet about something like that!" She looked so pitiful, biting her lower lip, eyes shimmering, "Who cares about reputation now? I feel so alone... and we may never see each other again. Gorim, please. Let me have one last good memory of Orzammar." He hesitated only a second longer before stepping into the cell and burying his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling sharply. "As you say, my dearest one."

The guard returned at the end of his hour, taking the keys from Gorim and ignoring the farewell kiss Serada placed on Gorim's cheek. "Farewell, my heart." He whispered, "I'll go to the human capital of Denerim. Should you live, look for me there."

There was blood on the walls around her and the floor was slick with gore. She could hear the sounds of battle ahead of her and she moved just a little bit faster; passing more and more darkspawn bodies as the sounds got louder. Through another crack in the rock and she was again on the Deep Roads. On her left was Duncan and the blond one... Alistair, while the rest of Duncan's group was at her right. Alistair was the first to turn when the battle was over, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of her, "Holy Maker! It's a dwarf!" Duncan spun round and his face registered surprise as well, "Lady Aeducan! What are you doing here? Where are you're troops?"

She'd been running and scrounging for what felt like days, and now that she'd found Duncan she let her exhaustion register. "By the Ancestors am I glad to see you." She collapsed onto the floor, ignoring the masses of flesh and piles of blood. Duncan knelt and offered her a skein of water, from which she drank greedily. "May I ask what happened?" She swallowed and took a deep breath, as though to cleanse herself from the last few days. "I have been exiled."

Alistair was flabbergasted, "Exiled? To these tunnels of death?!What crime would be so terrible?"

The casteless dwarf with them set aside his axe and removed a dagger from the chest of a hurlock and pulled a shield from beneath the creature, laying them on the stone beside her once he'd freed them. "Even down here, we've heard the rumors. Prince Trian is dead." She watched him carefully, "You're the casteless that won the Proving, aren't you?"

He grinned widely, "Names Faren Nobody, Serada Aeducan." She shook her head, "I have no name now. Exiled, remember?" She turned back to Duncan, "I was tricked by my brother Bhelen to believe that Trian was going to try and kill me. I confronted him and discovered that Bhelen had said the same to him – about me. But Trian believed Bhelen more than I, and attacked me." She shrugged, examining the dagger she'd been given. "Obviously, I won."

Duncan nodded, "When last we spoke, you told me that you would gladly offer your services to the Wardens. I imagine this isn't quite what you meant, but you may still find great honor here. As the leader of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, I would like to formally invite you to join our Order." She sighed, "While I recognize and do so feel honored for your offer, I would prefer a guide to the surface at the moment. My mind isn't exactly in the best place at the moment, and such a decision deserves more thought than I can give it now." Duncan nodded, "Certainly. We were just headed that way ourselves, to join the human forces facing the darkspawn hordes, led by King Cailan."

Serada stood and grabbed up the shield Faren had retrieved for her, "My strength is yours, Duncan." Faren raised his eyebrows, "You're turning down the chance to become a Warden?" She smirked, "While the Ancestors may wish me to, I am content to survive for the moment." Faren snorted, "Crazy noble caste."


	4. Daylen Amell and Neria Surana

They sat around the small campfire, two dwarves and three humans. The dwarves, who had started their companionship amicably enough, were now arguing over whether or not the casteless should be given more rights among the dwarven people. It was a discussion that the humans had had to listen to for the last few days as they made their way to the Imperial Highway. Duncan would occasionally stand and walk around the camp, scanning for trouble. It was while he was on one of these rounds that Alistair joined him and finally gained a moments peace. Once they were out of earshot of the others he put his hands over his face and let out a low growl of frustration. Duncan chuckled, "I swear, Duncan. These dwarves are going to be the death of me." Duncan chuckled and they made their way a little further from the fire. "Listen to their argument, Alistair. It is no different than the one raging in Denerim's court, about elves and their rights as citizens. They are free, and yet they widely treated as second class citizens." Alistair shook his head, "And why would I care about that? I'm a Grey Warden now, remember?" They stopped on a bluff overlooking Lake Calenhad and the silhouetted Kinloch Hold, home of the Circle of Magi. Duncan glanced at Alistair, "I have on more stop to make before Redcliffe. I need you to go ahead of me, take Faren and Serada with you."

Alistair's eyebrows raised in surprise, "You're putting me in charge?" He sounded scared and Duncan turned to him, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You'll be fine, Alistair. Just follow the Highway south, through the Hinterlands to Ostagar. Several of the Banns are going to be sending forces south and you can travel with them." His tone grew serious, "I have every faith that you can do this, Alistair. Remember, one day I will have to take the Calling and you will need to go on your own." Alistair pulled a face then sighed, "Very well." Duncan smiled, "Good. I'll see you soon."

Neria Surana followed Knight Commander Greagior up the great staircase at the top of the tower the led to the Harrowing Chamber. The room was at the topmost floor of the tower, shaped like an octagon with stained glass windows stretching up the walls to the towers pinnacle in what she knew was an ancient beacon. The point of the ceiling was actually open to the elements, but as it stood three stories above the floor one couldn't really tell the temperature difference from the rest of the tower. Greagior stopped and spoke with First Enchanter Irving as she looked around the room, this really was a beautiful room, but the thoughts about what she may have to do in here made her shiver and wrap her arms around herself. Finally Greagior turned around and began to speak.

"'Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him.' Thus spoke the Prophetess Andraste, as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift and a curse, for demons of the dream realm – the Fade – are drawn to you and seek to use you as a gateway to this world." Irving stepped forward, the pair of them looking like old warriors standing before a wave of enemies. "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade and there you will face a demon. Armed with only your will." It took Neria only a moment to think through the all the possibilities before she answered, "I am ready." Greagior gave a nod then another Templar stepped forward to the pedestal in the center of the room. She recognized him to be Cullen, a man new to his vows and the tower. She'd really only seen him about the tower a few times, but her friend Jowan insisted that Cullen had a crush on her. She'd brushed it off at the time but seeing him here now made her insides all twisty. "Know this apprentice. Should you fail, we Templars will do our duty." Cullen's jaw clenched and his grip adjusted on his bared sword while Greagior spoke, but Neria ignored it. She would defeat the demon.

Several dozen floor below them and outside the tower two men sat chatting. One was in full mage robes, the yellow fabric setting off the fiery red of his hair and the blood red in his facial tattoo. Couple that with black eyes and stern features, Daylen Amell was the sort of dangerously handsome that was mostly found in womens novels. Unlike most in the tower, Dalyen kept to a strict exercise schedule that called for regular weapons practice with the sword and a specific diet. He had begun to follow it shortly after his Harrowing and now, after years of physical training and mental control, Daylen's physique matched his complexion, and he was the object of many of the female mages dreams – many of which he had been an active participant. He looked up to the top of the tower, his neck and eyes straining. "You won't be able to see her unless she falls. And I doubt Irving's about to let that happen."

The man who had spoken wasn't nearly as handsome as Daylen, nor was he anywhere near as sought after for nocturnal companionship – not that Daylen ever physically accepted any of the numerous invitations anyway – but neither were enough reason for either Daylen or Neria to not be friends with him. Jowan could come across as the twitchy sort of person, he was more nervous than anything else, but in recent months he had become very secretive, even sneaking out at all hours of the night. A full head shorter than Daylen, Jowan had a thick mop of brown hair and big puppy brown eyes that he could unleash at any moment to get Neria to do anything.

Daylen smirked and turned back to Jowan, "I still worry about her." Jowan shook his head, "Only you would. You've been worrying about her ever since she arrived at the Tower. Besides, I saw them leading Cullen up there as well and you know how he feels about her." Daylen snorted, "I was there when Greagior told Cullen he'd been at her Harrowing. Greagior told him that he would be the one to "do his duty to the apprentice" should anything go wrong." He gave the Tower another worried glance. Unlike Jowan, Daylen knew what was going on up there. She was being thrown to the wolves, a lamb being led to the slaughter. She was only a few years his junior, but Jowan was right. In the twenty years since she'd been brought to the Tower as a toddler Daylen had been her protector. Now she was out of his reach and he was unable to do anything to help her. Jowan stood as a young initiate walked into the small garden – the only outdoors area that the mages were allowed to go. Templars stood every four feet and each had multiple blades about their person. The garden wall was eight feet tall and the hedges were arranged in a sigil that eliminated all magic so that no spell could be cast. "Why don't you go back to your quarters and meditate or something? I'll keep an eye out for when they bring her back." Daylen nodded and stood as well, "Fine... But if I haven't heard from you by morning prayer, I'm coming to the Apprentice Quarters."

It was close to midnight when Daylen heard footsteps outside his room. Carefully he slipped from his desk, where he'd been studying a thick tome on herbology, to his door and cracked it open. There were six Templars coming down the hall, Knight Commander Greagior and that one called Cullen amongst them. The first two went by without a word but Greagior stopped at the opened door, holding Daylen's gaze as the others moved past. Daylen watched as Cullen moved past him with something in his arms. Instinctively Daylen opened his door wider and made to move into the hallway but Greagior put a hand on his chest, "She is alive and well. You may speak with her when she has woken."

"So she..."

"Yes. She has passed her Harrowing." Daylen smirked, his eyes never leaving Cullen's back as the templar continued down the hall. "Stay in your room for tonight, Daylen. Curfew has long since past and I won't have you break that rule, no matter who she is." Daylen's eyebrow quirked but he stepped back into his chamber. "As soon as Morning prayer is done, I'm going to her." Greagior sighed and waved the Templar at the end of the hall. Together they pulled the heavy looking wooden beam across the closed door and Greagior sealed it using the vial of lyrium hanging around his neck. One drop was all it took and the blue fluid began to spread through the crevices in the wood, illuminating the shape of the Sword of Mercy. Locks such as this one were merely precautions against abominations and their ilk, and thankfully they were only used when the Templars felt that a mage could be a danger to itself or others. The apprentice halls had one on each door leading to the dorm, and one again on each door in the halls. The mages had one on their individual chamber doors, while the senior enchanters had a double lock that not only sealed the room, but canceled all magics cast inside once the lock was in place. It was all precaution to save the rest of the Tower and Ferelden, and if it failed the mage would then be put through the Right of Tranquility or simply killed. Once satisfied that Daylen had no choice than to keep his word, Greagior nodded to the hall guard and whispered, "That seal will hold until daybreak, and then he can be released to do as he wishes, but no sooner." The guard nodded and took up his place next to the hall door, sword drawn and pointed down, just in case something should happen while Greagior made his way back up the stairs to his chamber.

He'd walked through these halls for years, seen things that would have sent average men running for their lives in terror. He had stared down mages hopped up on lyrium, mages turning into abominations, apprentices fail the Harrowing – had even been the one to give the killing blow at several – and female mages give birth to children they would never know. He'd survived First Enchanters past, the Grand Cleric post be given to another, and the rise of the country's savior; but he had yet to see a mage fight one of his templars for the affections of another mage. Added to that were the fact that the two competing men were human and the sought woman an elf made the whole situation perversely entertaining to Greagior. Once inside his quarters Greagior let himself chuckle slightly before the seriousness of the situation overcame him. He viewed each of the men in his command as his own children, and Greagior could see much of himself in Cullen and his desire for the young Neria. Now that he was removed from his own object of distraction, Greagior could take in the situation with an eye of objectivity. He knew it was dangerous, but it was also a great opportunity to test Cullen and the strength of his vows. It was certainly something worth considering further...

Neria tossed on her bunk, trying to get more comfortable. She'd been awake most of the night with her Harrowing, and was just awake enough now to hear what the others were saying around her. "Is she alright?" She knew that voice well, it was Daylen. He'd been a friend to her ever since she'd come to the Tower as a young child, had introduced her to Jowan, and had helped her with several all night study sessions to prepare for her Harrowing. She wasn't surprised that he was down here, but she was surprised that he was the one asking the question. Someone else answered, a woman... who was that... Petra? Murmuring something about her being "hale and hearty, just tired from the ordeal. That templar, Cullen, said it was the quickest, cleanest Harrowing he'd ever seen." She heard Daylen snort. She knew that sound very well, and the face that went along with it. Daylen had always had an aversion to the Templars and the Chantry's oppression they represented. "Given the chance they'd kill us all." he would often say, usually whenever a templar was around. He'd grown even more testy about them ever since Jowan had first suggested that Cullen had a crush on her. The chair beside her bed creaked and she could sense Daylen leaning over her, checking to see if she was truly alright. "He said she was very talented and brave."

Daylen looked up at Petra, a gleam in his eyes that made the woman take a small step backwards from him, "Well then, he would say that wouldn't he?" Daylen's nostrils flared and he shook his head, muttering something about 'the damned Templar keeps turning up everywhere'. Petra grinned and shook her head. "At any rate, she's been tossing about like that for the last hour. I think she may be waking up." Daylen nodded absently and waved her off. Once the other mage was out of earshot, Daylen leaned forward and let his lips brush against Neria's forehead. "Brave little one. I'm so proud of you." She rolled over once more, snuggling down into her blankets finally falling back asleep. Or as asleep as a mage could get. It wasn't until several hours later that she rolled over once again and heard another voice, "Are you awake? Say something, please!"

It was Jowan, she'd know that nervous lilt anywhere. Jowan had always been a bit squirrely, and could act suspicious to those who didn't know his nature. Neria had overheard a couple of the templars talking about someone being suspected of practicing blood magic, and Jowan's name had been mentioned in that same conversation. Blood magic was a forbidden art that had been abused by the mages of the Imperium, Neria understood why, or claimed to aloud anyway; power had a strong pull and anyone could succumb to it. But to try blood magic in the Tower? The very place that the Templars would be watching most carefully? Could anyone be that stupid? Could Jowan? She groaned a bit and sat up, rubbing her eyes, "Jowan?" she didn't want to think about it anymore. "Jowan what are you..."

Jowan grinned and sat next to her, "I'm glad you're alright. They carried you in early this morning. I didn't realize you'd been gone all night." Neria smiled and shook her head, trying to clear it of the memories of her Harrowing. "I've heard of apprentices who never come back from their Harrowing. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?" Neria stood and stretched, popping her back. She rubbed the small of her back and tried to think of a way to answer his question and keep her promise to Irving to not discuss the Harrowing. He sighed and stood as well, looking her in the eye, "I know I'm not supposed to know but we're friends! Just a little hint and I'll stop asking, I promise." She chewed her lips and lowered her eyes, trying to think of something. She wasn't supposed to discuss it with anyone, especially apprentices but this was Jowan! He was right, she wasn't supposed to keep a secret from her friends was she? Then again, Daylen had...

"It's a test of ability, that's all." Jowan's brow wrinkled. "There must be something more or they would tell the apprentices what's involved." There were footsteps, fast moving footsteps, coming from the hallway and they both turned to see Daylen hurrying towards them.

He'd left her bedside only an hour ago to get something to eat. He'd heard Jowan talking and had hurried back, a steaming pastry in his hand. "Neria! You're awake!" He wrapped his free arm around her in a bear hug and lifted her from the ground. "Did you do alright? You weren't hurt were you?"

She shook her head, "No Daylen. I'm fine. Although..." she glanced at Jowan then stretched up to Daylen's ear to whisper, "When I woke up the Templars were standing all around me, and Cullen had his sword sword at my throat. I was so surprised that I fainted." Daylen pulled back, a dark look on his features. Neria had seen that look before as well, in the years since they'd met Daylen had always been her protector. Her eyes traced along the swirling shape of his tattoo, which he'd given himself after his own Harrowing. "I'm fine Daylen. I've passed my Harrowing and now I'm a mage!" She tried to smile and be happy, but Daylen's mood wasn't getting any better.

Jowan 'humphed' behind them, "And now you get to move to the mage quarters upstairs and I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

Thankfully that brought a reaction form Daylen, who rolled his eyes and stepped back from Neria, "Oh relax Jowan. They'll summon you for your test when your ready."

Jowan grimaced, "Easy for you to say! I've been here longer than you have! Sometimes I think... I think they don't want to test me."

Neria was confused, "Doesn't everyone take a Harrowing?"

Daylen shook his head, staring at Jowan intently, "No. You do the Harrowing, the Rite of Tranquility or you die. That's what happens." Daylen set his jaw, "They aren't going to kill you Jowan."

Jowan cocked an eyebrow at him, "They might not. But the Rite of tranquility is just as bad... maybe worse." He glanced at Neria, "You've seen the Tranquil around the tower. Like Owain, who runs the stockroom. He's so cold... No, not even cold, there's just nothing in him. It's like he's dead but still walking. His voice, his eyes are lifeless..."

Daylen's brow wrinkled. "I think you're reading too much into it."

Jowan snorted, "AM I? Really Daylen, you know I'm right! I've been ready for my Harrowing for a long time. I'm afraid they don't want me to take it."

It was Neria's turn to shake her head, "What's the Rite of Tranquility?"

Jowan stared at her. Unbelievable, Neria was adorable but she could be so naive sometimes. "I don't know how they do it exactly, but you're cut off from the Fade." Daylen interrupted, "It takes away your magic abilities along with your emotions and dreams."

Her eyebrows knit together, "How can they remove your emotions?"

Daylen shrugged and offered her a piece of his pastry. She took it and wolfed it down before Jowan spoke again, "The Fade's the dream realm. Maybe it's a side effect of being cut off from there?" Daylen nodded along, "Apprentices can ask to be made Tranquil, if they fear the Harrowing, like Humbert did last week. But the Circle forces Tranquility on those they feel are weak or even those they think would be too dangerous as full mages."

Daylen then rolled his eyes and stuffed the remains of the pastry in his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his hands, "I still say you're reading too much into this, Jowan. When you're ready, they'll call for you."He turned to Neria and smiled gently, "While I was in the kitchens I heard that Irving wants to see you. Said something about being up in his office on the Enchanters floor."

"Why would he want to see me?"

"About your Harrowing of course! He's going to give you your mages robes, I'd bet a sovereign on it."

Neria moved slowly back through the library, retracing her steps to her new room after having dismissed the Tranquil, the scent of old tomes and aged scrolls. It was one of the things that she loved about the Tower. All this knowledge at ones fingertips, the histories of so many countries and peoples. She would love to spend her life just wandering the aisles, climbing the shelves to see what else there was so high above her head. She'd come to the stairs leading to the mages hall, heading to her own private room. She'd never had her own room since she was brought to the tower. She wasn't sure if she would be able to sleep that night without the sounds of the other apprentices around her. She put her hand on the knob, giving the engraving of the Sword of Mercy on its face a half glance before pushing her way inside. The bed was slightly larger than she was used to – apparently the rumors she'd heard about the elder mages and their bouts of promiscuity were true – but there was a small warming brazier built close to the floor in the corner while on the wall opposite was a shorter bookcase with a sampling of books already on it.

There was a knock on the door behind her and she turned to see Cullen standing there. "Oh! Uh, hello... I just stopped by to offer congratulations on your Harrowing. I was glad to see it went well." She smiled gently and curtsied lightly, "Hello Cullen. Thank you, but I knew I would not fail my Harrowing." Cullen smirked, "You were always so confident...uh! Or so I hear... um, heh..." She tilted her head to the side and smiled, "Cullen, why are you stuttering? I'm the same person I was before my Harrowing." He blanched, "What? I'm not stuttering. I, uh, I'm just glad you're alright, is all." She nodded slowly, having grown suddenly serious. "I saw you there, Cullen. Would you have really struck me down, as Greagior commanded?"

He softened a bit at that, "I... I would have felt terrible about it. But I serve the Chantry and the Maker and I will do as I am commanded." She swallowed, "But I thought that all templars enjoyed killing mages." the corner of his mouth twitched, "Some do, but not I. It's my duty to hunt down apostate mages, but I do so with a heavy heart." He sighed and raked a gloved hand back through his tightly curled hair. "I've heard of failed Harrowings, and the consequences were unpleasant." There was a brief pause as she digested what he said. A pause that quickly grew awkward, almost forcing her to murmur, "I shouldn't keep you from your duties, Cullen. I really should get back to moving in here." He seemed to flush that much more when she shifted backwards, her body language almost seeming as to invite him into the chamber. "Oh you're not distracting...I mean you are, but well, you're not. I mean," he blew out his breath, "You can talk to me anytime, if you want. Greagior has assigned this hall to me, as a reward for such faithful service."

There was a cough behind him and Cullen turned to see Daylen standing behind him, glaring at the templar as though he'd like to do something violent to the weapon carrying soldier. Cullen gulped and turned back to Neria, "Well, I should... go. You certainly have other things to do." Cullen bowed his head to her and then left the doorway, letting Neria catch her own breath. It had never really occurred to her that Cullen was a handsome man, but when he'd appeared in her doorway, talking to her, the lighting had been just perfect enough to catch the reddish tints of his hair, left natural to frame his face. She'd seen that his eyes were a soft brown that had held her captive and … she shook her head, blinking several times. "Hi Daylen. What... what are you doing here?" Daylen was busy watching Cullen disappear around a corner, "I heard you got stuck here on the third level and I wanted to come see you. How you were settling in." His lip curled angrily, "Seems a good thing I did too. Neria I want you to stay away form that templar. He's twitchy and overly nervous, besides, he's new to the job and wants to get on Greagior's good side. On top of that he's a _templar; _say one thing wrong and He'll kill you just to be safe."

Neria inhaled sharply, "Daylen, what's gotten into you? Cullen was only trying to say hello and yet you act as though he already had his sword in hand." Daylen's look turned sour, apparently that was the wrong choice of words. He stalked into the room, and closed the door behind him, although she could see the level of restraint it took him to not slam it. His jaw was set and his features stern but his eyes betrayed their long lasting friendship. "Neria, I think it's time you and I had a little talk." She raised her eyebrows, "About what?" Daylen opened his mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Rolling his eyes, Daylen opened the door and revealed Jowan standing nervously in the hallway.

"Oh good, you're both here. Do you remember what we discussed this morning?"

Neria moved to Daylen's side, :Why are you whispering? It looks suspicious!" Daylen peeked down the hallway to where Cullen was now speaking with another Templar. "Neria's right, can't this wait?"

Jowan shook his head emphatically, "No. We all need to talk. Now." Daylen rolled his eyes and sighed, Jowna could be so melodramatic sometimes, "Alright, fine. But let's go somewhere else. We won't be safe here." Jowan's brow wrinkled, but thankfully he stayed silent as Cullen's fellow templar moved past. Once the templar was on the stairs to the fifth level, the group made their way down to the chapel. They worked their way into a corner when Jowan finally stopped them. "There. We should be safe here."

Daylen looked around them, keeping his thoughts about how Jowan was clearly losing his mind to himself. "You'd better not be wasting our time, Jowan." Neria gave Daylen a harsh glance then also shook her head. They were standing next to an initiate – the same Daylen had seen the day before from the garden – and it made her uncomfortable. Naive or not, Neria knew the rules of the Tower, how they worked throughout the Chantry. She'd had a friend when she'd first arrived at the Tower, they'd been brought together. Solona was the younger daughter of a free holder in the Bannorn, although she had never told Neria her father's name. Apparently the Templars had rescued her from being burned alive for her magic abilities, but that wasn't all of it. When Solona had finally broken down her walls to talk about it, Neria had been disgusted. The villagers had treated her horribly, forcing her to live in a root cellar from the age of four, with no contact with the outside world and barely surviving on pig slop that they would occasionally give her... if they remembered her existence. The templars that had rescued her were only passing by, returning to the Tower with Neria in tow when they'd seen the flames. It was one of the few times that Neria had seen the Templars that angry with anyone other than a mage gone astray, but then again no knew really knew the damage done until that day...

They were just beginning to learn fir based spells when it happened. They had all been there when Solona had simply reacted. The enchanter teaching them had launched only a small fireball at her, but Solona must have reverted to that day on the pyre because instead of catching it in her hands as they had been instructed, she shot one of her own. The two clashed together and became one giant wall of flame, engulfing the enchanter and the entire room in the blaze. Daylen had dived for Solona, knocking her to the floor, while Neria had tried to stop the flames with a thick coating of ice and Jowan ran for help. Only the help he'd brought was the Knight Commander, and with his arrival the madness was done; Solona was dead, Daylen's forever changed to the color of her flames and Neria's own once thick brown lock's altered to the sheer blueish white of ancient ice. It still made Neria shiver when she thought about it; Solona had just turned sixteen.

Jowan smiled broadly, "Don't worry, I'm not." He motioned to the initiate and she moved closer to him, "Do you remember a few months ago when I told you I'd met a girl? This, is Lily."

Neria's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "An initiate? Jowan... that's forbidden."

Daylen just gave a snort and grinned, "My apologies Lily."

Jowan rolled his eyes, "Very funny." Neria was still processing, "Jowan, you can't..." she took a deep breath, "you didn't bring us here for that."

Jowan nodded, "True. Remember this morning when I said they weren't going to give me my Harrowing? I know why. They're going to make me Tranquil." Daylen inhaled sharply and looked away while Neria chewed her lip, "Why would they do that to you?"

Daylen turned back, "There's a rumor being passed around that someone's dabbling in blood magic. I've never heard any names, but it's you isn't it, Jowan?" Jowan glanced around them, making sure they were very much alone before slowly nodding. Daylen raised his arms and ran his hands back through his hair in frustration, exhaling heavily before setting his jaw and giving Jowan a hard look, "So what are you going to do?"

"I need to escape, destroy my phylactery and get away from the Tower. Without it they can't track me down. But we will need your help. Lily and I can't do it on our own." Neria sputtered, "Jowan. Can't you just explain the situation to someone? Irving is more understanding than you give him credit for. He might be willing to reconsider." Jowan nearly growled, "If we tell anyone Lily will be punished; I won't see her suffer for my choice. If you care about me at all you'll help us!" Neria put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes tightly. Images of Solona fighting and dying were flashing through her mind. Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and forced herself to focus. "No."

"What?"

She took a deep breath, feeling the dusty air reach far into her lungs, "You are my friend and I do care for you and because of that I won't breathe a word of this to anyone, but DO NOT ask me to do this. I've already lost one friend to the Tower's laws and I won't help them gain another." Jowan's nostrils flared slightly, "They'll extinguish my humanity! I'll be a husk, breathing and existing but not really living!" Her eyes glowed with a light blue of her magic, the way they always did when she was frustrated. Jowan could be such a prat sometimes. "Better that than a corpse on the pyre, like Solona." Not even ice cold water dumped on their head could have been more effective at stopping the conversation. Her head pounding, she turned away slightly but couldn't leave it at that. "Jowan, you are one of my dearest friends and I wish you luck, but I cannot help with this."

She heard the ruckus from her seat in the library. There was a shout, it sounded a bit like Jowan, and then a great collective thud as bodies hit the floor. Her heart was racing as she got to her feet and ran into the hall. Scattered on the floor in front of her were Greagior, Daylen Irving and a handful of other templars. Near panic, she went to Daylen's side and roused him. "Ugh! What... Neria! Neria you have to get out of here." She didn't understand, "Why?" He sat up slowly, bringing on hand to hold his head, "Jowan – ack! - was a blood mage after all. Limey bastard, cast a spell that hit everyone. You can't be seen here or they will think you part of it." she started shaking her head when he looked beyond her to the doorway and called to the newcomer, "Cullen! Great, just what I needed." The young templar stepped forward, hand on his blade, ready for a fight, but Daylen raised his hands helpessly. "Cullen, get Neria out of here before Greagior wakes up. She had no part in this, I swear to the Maker." Cullen didn't move, just raised an eyebrow at him, making Daylen snort derisively. "Don't get all regal on me now Templar. Jowan and I have done something terrible and I won't have Neria's good name dragged through the mud along with us. She was nowhere near us when this happened. Now get her out of here!" Daylen got to his feet and shoved Neria away form him, making her stumble into Cullen's armored chest. It took Cullen only another half second to think before her dragged her bodily from the room. They were making their way up the stairs when she finally broke out of his grip, "Let me go! I have to help him." Cullen exhaled sharply, "Neria. Daylen is beyond your help now. He admits to having helped a blood mage escape the Tower. Greagior will have no choice but to execute him. Your interfering will only bring his wrath against you as well."

She was near panic when the thought hit her. "Duncan! The Grey Warden! Surely he can help somehow." Cullen was shaking his head, "I don't see how..." She was already running up the stairs, "Greagior can't do anything to Duncan if he at least tries to help. There must be something he can do... Anything is better than death."


	5. Theron Mahariel

Daylen pulled his traveling cloak tighter around his shoulders and hunkered down closer to the fire. "Are you certain you won't make this bigger?" Duncan shook his head, "We are in the Drakon Woods, a regular haunt for some of Ferelden's Dalish clans. They already know we are here and I won't incur their wrath any more than is necessary." Daylen snorted, "Then why are we here? If I wanted to freeze to death I would have stayed at the Tower." Duncan chuckled and threw him a spare bedroll, "Here, that will keep you plenty warm." Daylen 'hmphed' then wrapped the blanket around himself. While it wasn't very thick, Daylen found that he was soon plenty warm. So much so that he even scooted back away from the flames. He picked up a corner to examine it more closely. There wasn't anything really remarkable about it, in fact if he'd seen it in a marketplace he probably would have passed it by but... he was warm. He gave it an other glance with his magical senses and grinned, "This has been enchanted, hasn't it?" Duncan looked at him, raised an eyebrow then returned to eating. "It is, I know it is. What spell was used on it? Elemental or spiritual?" Duncan just continued to ignore him. Daylen stared at his companion for another moment before growling angrily and returning to his examination of the cloth. They remained that way for a while longer while Duncan finished eating before he spoke, "It's an enhancement spell. The Dalish Keeper that gave it to me said that it would take any heat from any source and amplify it until I was comfortable." Daylen was surprised, "You know a Dalish Keeper?"

Duncan smirked, "Get some rest. We've got quite the way to go to get to Ostagar." He raised a hand and pointed into the thicker darkness beneath the trees around them, "But before we head anywhere there's something there that's setting my nerves on edge. We're going to investigate it tomorrow." Daylen watched his rescuer carefully, "You talk as though you're going to die soon. I can hear it in your voice." Duncan didn't move, just kept staring at the forest as though it would swallow him whole, "Not as soon as I would like, but much sooner than my friends would."

Theron Mahariel; Dalish warrior, deadly accurate with the bow, known for his surly attitude and fierce pride in the Dalish way – was suddenly feeling something in his gut he hadn't felt in years. From the instant he and his hunting companion Tamlen had set foot in the ruins – and the shems had thought it a cave, psh – he had had a very powerful urge to turn around and go back the way they'd come. Just head back to camp and forget about this place. It made him uncomfortable, a Dalish warrior wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything, but still... he couldn't shake this feeling of foreboding as he helped Tamlen force open the last door. The room was circular, with runes and such engraved on the walls and floor around the tall mirror standing in its center... showing their reflection to a creature standing in front of it. Turning to face them, it roared like a bear and reared back on its hind legs like a bear would, but the great pointy hackles emerging from its fur certainly weren't bearlike. It slammed back into the ground and Theron readied his weaponry. "By the Creators!" Tamlen swore as they began to hack at the beast. Theron ducked low and swung at the creatures legs as Tamlen rained cuts and slices at the hide form above. Between them they made quick work of the confused creature, Theron rolled form beneath the thing as it fell, wiping his smaller blades on the matted fur.

Other than the mirror the room was empty and Theron's gut was still telling him to get away. Replacing the daggers to his hips, he was about to drag Tamlen away when the man grabbed his arm. "You're not leaving without checking out this mirror are you!?" Theron gave it a glance then fixed Tamlen with a glare, "I don't trust it, and neither should you." Tamlen scoffed, "It's sat here for centuries, what could be dangerous? Don't worry, I won't break it." Theron sighed, "Fine. If you're so eager to look at it go ahead." Tamlen grinned and scampered over to the mirror. "I wonder what this writing is for... eh. Maybe this isn't... hey! Did you see that!" Theron looked outside at the once again dead bodies outside the room before answering, "See what?"Tamlen pointed at the mirror, "There! I think I saw something move inside the mirror!" Theron rolled his eyes, "You're imagining things. We should go... get the Keeper."

Tamlen shook his head, "Not yet... It was right there! Wait. There it is again! Can you feel that?... I think it knows we're here. I just need to take a closer look. Tamlen shuffled his feet to a better position and the knot in Theron's stomach jumped into his throat. "NO! Tamlen... Wait!" Tamlen ignored him, It's showing me places.. I can see some kind of city... underground? And a great blackness... It... it saw me! Help! I can't look away!" Theron had just mounted the dias to get to Tamlen when a cold blast erupted from the mirror and he was sent flying out the door. He blacked out for a second before shaking his head and finding himself in the arms of the statue they'd seen earlier. He groaned and extracted himself from it's grip, stumbling as he made his way out of the cave. "Have to... get the Keeper..."

The next thing he remembered was waking in his arravel; the bedclothes soaked in sweat and his head pounding. Slowly, he moved outside, squinting in the bright sunlight. He was trying to collect his thoughts when Fenarel came bounding up to him, "You're awake! You've the gods own luck lethallin. You're back at camp, everyone is worried sick about you. How do you feel?" The look in Theron's eyes showed anything but fine while he spoke, "I'm alive. Just a little groggy." Fenarel nodded. "We'd thought you would die. The shem's that found you... the older one said there wasn't much hope. It would seem he was wrong." Theron smirked, "T'would seem so." Then Fenarel's words sunk in, "Wait. A shem brought me back to camp?" Fenarel nodded, "Well, two actually. The older one said he was a Grey Warden and he had you slung over his shoulder. The other is by the Keeper's arravel." Fenarel motioned over his shoulder to where a male shem sat beneath a tree, a mages staff across his lap and his head bowed. He appeared to be deep in some sort of meditation but from the sheer size of him Theron doubted it. Fenarel continued talking while Theron studied the shem.

"You were delirious with fever. Duncan, the older shem, said that they found you outside a cave in the forest, unconscious and alone." That caught Theron's attention, "He left you and his apprentice here before running back into the forest. The Keeper's been using the old magic to heal you." Theron turned back to the shem who was now conversing with the Keeper. "Will I be alright? What about Tamlen?" Fenarel shrugged, "Most of the hunters are out looking for him right now but they hold little hope of finding him. You've been here for two days, barely alive save for the Keepers magic. She even asked the shem for help!" Theron shook his head, things must be very grave indeed if the Keeper thought a shem might help them. He watched the shem point in their direction and the Keeper turn to see them. Relief washed over her face and she made her way towards them. Fenarel bowed to her before moving to speak with a pair of hunters who had returned.

"I see you are awake, da'len. It is fortunate that Duncan found you when he did. I know not what dark power held you, but it nearly bled the life from you. It was difficult for my magic – even when combined with that of Duncan's apprentice – to keep you alive."

"Duncan... Is that the one who brought me back?"

"Yes. He introduced himself as a Grey Warden and his apprentice. Duncan thought that there might be darkspawn in the cave. Is that true?" Theron shrugged, "There were walking corpses and other monsters but I know not what a darkspawn would appear as." The Keepers brow wrinkled, "Walking corpses? Dark magic, but not darkspawn. What else did you find? What is the last thing you remember?" Theron swallowed, "There was a mirror. Tamlen touched it." The Keeper let out a heavy sigh, "A mirror? And it cause all this..." I have never heard of such a thing in all the lore we have collected. I was hoping for answers when you awoke, but there are only more questions." She turned her back to him for a moment to think, then back, her expression very serious, "Do you feel well enough to show us the way to this cave, da'len? Without you we will not find it."

Theron rolled his shoulders, "I feel fine, Keeper. I can do it." She smiled, Good. Take Merrill and Duncan's apprentice, Daylen with you. Find Tamlen if you can, but do it quickly. I am ordering the clan to move north." He paused, "The clan is leaving?"

"If there is any truth to what Duncan is saying, then darkspawn may appear in these parts soon. We must get away from that horde." Theron's mouth twitched, "Why am I to take his apprentice?" The Keeper glanced back at Daylen, "He is well trained and talented in some of my healing arts. Should you find Tamlen, Daylen can keep him alive until you return."

"You would trust a shemlen?" The Keeper gave him her look, the one that she saved for those who had truly brought harm to the clan, "I trust Duncan, the Grey Warden and Duncan trusts him. That is all, but that is not my largest concern. Some of our hunters have grown restless, with packing to move and waiting on word of you. They may try to harm him; Shemlen or not, I would be forced to protect him. I gave my word to Duncan he would be safe with us." Theron nodded, "We leave immediately then."

"Find Tamlen. Quickly."

The three Dalish were wary over their new human companion. While it was clear that their Keeper believed he meant no harm to them, it could have simply been a ploy. After all, who would be foolish enough to attack a Dalish clan while at the heart of its camp? Also he traveled with a Grey Warden and if the tales about the Order were true then they had nothing to fear... right? Theron led the small group through the Wood, following the small path he and Tamlen had been shown days earlier. It would have been almost impossible to find again, especially for a shemlen, save that there were now several dead bodies littering the ground. This Duncan must truly be an amazing tracker to have found this, let alone to have defeated all these... "What is that?" Merrill pointed ahead of them at a cluster of monsters with pitch black skin that seemed to crawl over them. A couple were bald headed, revealing fiercely pointed ears and black eyes that seemed to roll independently of each other. Everything within Theron, even the warrior part of his soul that shirked from nothing, screamed at him to run. These... things were nothing like he'd seen before.

Daylen, the human, swung his staff forward and summoned a span of flame that swallowed the monsters – and the forest around them. Merrill brought up her own weapon and stilled the flames in a shower of water and ice. Encased in one particularly large chunk of frozen flame was one of the smaller creatures. "Is that...Theron, did you encounter these in the cave?" Fenarel asked, moving closer to it. The creature had reared its head back, its mouth still open in a hideous howl now silenced. Even under the ice the skin seemed to crawl over its frame, as though it was more a blanket of ants instead of flesh and there was a distinct chill in the air that seemed to come from a source other than the ice around them. That same chill settled deep into their bones and made each of them shiver heavily. "That must be a darkspawn." Daylen murmured, pulling a shortsword from within his cloak and tapping its point against the ice.

The creature inside shifted his head, bringing it down and focusing his eyes on Daylen. The group froze as the creature cracked its neck and slowly raised its arms, fighting the force of the ice around it. The horned helm it wore slid forward and its lips parted in an incantation. "He's an emissary!" Daylen shouted, backpedaling quickly, grabbing Merrill's arm and pulling her away from the frozen flames. The other two backed up as well, barely avoiding the flying chunks of ice as the creatures cage blasted apart. Daylen ducked down, shielding Merrill from the worst of it with his own towering frame before spinning around and forcing the charging creature backwards off its feet. Before the creature could react, both Theron and Fenarel unleashed multiple arrows into it, putting it to the ground, dead. Merrill came up behind them, "What were those things?! Did you say darkspawn?" Theron knelt to inspect the body, "That would make sense."

Merrill's eyes widened, "I've never seen anything like them! You can smell the evil on them. Where did they come from? Were they here before?" Theron shook his head while Daylen answered, "Maybe that mirror has something to do with it." He was looking at Theron, who nodded slowly. "Perhaps."

Merrill huffed, What would darkspawn have to do with our people? The stories say that Arlathan fell long before the darkspawn appeared." Daylen just gave her a look while Theron smirked. After a few tense seconds Daylen shook his head, "Come on. We've still got a ways to go." They all were starting to move ahead when Merrill grabbed Theron's arm. "Are you alright? Were you hurt during the fight?" Theron shook his head, "Nothing I won't recover from. Why?" Fenarel was walking beside him, "You do seem quite pale now that Merrill's mentioned it." Theron stopped moving and turned to Daylen, "Would you also like to comment?" The Grey Warden apprentice shrugged then gave him a cocky grin, "Personally, you just look like an angry elf to me." Theron paused for a moment before chuckling and marching on ahead of them in silence. It was another half hour before they found the cave, with more of the monsters lying dead every few feet. They rounded a corner and saw a pair fighting a locked door, paying them no mind. Theron signaled Fenarel and the two of them readied their bows. Theron then exhaled slowly, the signal amongst their clan to release their arrows. The two darkspawn fell in unison, twin arrows through their necks, but the snap of the Dalish's bowstrings caught the attention of another of the monsters further down the hall. Daylen saw it first and began to chant slowly, a glow coming to the end of his staff. The three Dalish watched, mesmerized, as he raised his sword, paired it with the staff and then thrust them both forward. A shadowy image of the sword flew at the monster and caught it in the midsection, cutting it clean in half.

"Not bad." Theron said as they stepped around the gore. Daylen snorted, "Thanks. I tried my best." Theron chuckled, then went very serious as they entered the room with the mirror. Standing before it was an older shem – only appearing to be in his late thirties – with wicked looking blades strapped to his back and various other weapons strapped both visible and surely hidden on his person. Daylen perked up, "Duncan! Glad to see the darkspawn didn't get you yet!" Duncan turned and clasped Daylen's hand before turning to the elves. "So you were the ones fighting darkspawn. I thought I heard combat." He gave Theron a more studious glance, "You're the elf we found in the forest, aren't you? I'm surprised you recovered."

Theron smirked, "It's a thing I do. You are Duncan then, the Grey Warden that saved me?" As further introductions were made Duncan kept giving Theron a peculiar look. "Did you... did you come here alone, human? Battling all those creatures?" It was Duncan's turn to laugh, "Yes, but I must admit you took a great deal of pressure off me." He gave Daylen a quick glance before speaking again, "Your Keeper didn't send you after me did she? I told her I would be in no danger." Theron looked around, "We're looking for our brother, Tamlen." Duncan nodded, "So you and your friend Tamlen both entered this cave? And you saw this mirror?"

Theron nodded, "So you've found some trace of Tamlen then?" Duncan shook her head, "No. Nor do I think I will." He motioned to the mirror, "the Grey Wardens have seen artifacts like this before; it's Tevinter in origin, used for communication. Over time some of them simply... break. They become filled with the same taint as the darkspawn. Tamlen's touch must have released it. It is what made you sick... and Tamlen too, I presume."

"So it's true? I had the darkspawn plague." Duncan sighed, "You have it still, and it will continue to infect others as long as this mirror exists. Your recovery is only temporary, I can sense the sickness in you. And it it spreading. Look inside yourself and you will see." Theron's eyes thinned, his brows wrinkling as he inhaled slowly. They didn't have to wait long until Theron's breathing began to speed back up and his eyes widened slightly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is something to what you say." Duncan nodded, "Confirm it with your Keeper if you like but for now we must deal with this mirror. It is a danger."They watched as Duncan turned from them, drawing a longsword form his back and swung at the mirror. There was a great echoing screech as the sword connected with the glass and then a brilliant white flash as it came apart into hundreds of shards. Duncan stared at the bits around his feet for a moment longer before turning back to them. "Now, let's leave this cursed place. I must speak with your Keeper immediately regarding your cure. Theron's eyes widened, "What about Tamlen?" Duncan's face turned sad, "There is nothing we can do for him now." Theron's lip curled into a snarl, "I'm still alive! He could be too!" Duncan put up his hands, "Let me be very clear: there is nothing you can do for him. He's been tainted for three days now without help. Through your Keeper's magic and your own willpower you did not die. But Tamlen has had no chance. Trust me when I say that he is gone. Now, we should return."

Daylen glanced around the cave and the shattered mirror, "Can we leave the cave like this? Is it safe?" Duncan nodded, "With the mirror destroyed, I doubt the darkspawn will return." Daylen followed last, taking the rear guard as they made their way back to the Dalish camp.

"I'm glad to see you've returned. And I did not expect to see you again so soon, Duncan." Keeper Marethari's voice was soft, almost gentle compared to the silence that the others had maintained on their way back. Daylen was sitting next to one of the few fires still burning in the nearly empty camp, his staff lying on the ground at his feet. That trek had been rough, one of the worst he'd eve been on. The elves seemed to be more hostile to them as they'd walked back.

Duncan had been only respectful as they'd spoken with the Keeper, almost as though he was trying to earn back their trust. "I was not expecting to return so soon either, Keeper." She had given Daylen a quick glance, half curious before turning to Theron. "And what of Tamlen? What did you find of him?"

Theron glowered at Duncan before answering, "The Grey Warden says we will find nothing." the Keeper nodded, "I see. Merrill what about the mirror? Did you bring anything back?" Duncan jumped in, "I can answer that Keeper. I destroyed the mirror." She looked surprised, that had clearly not been the answer she'd expected. "I intended to use it to find a cure for this mysterious illness. I trust you had good reason for your actions?" Duncan nodded, "There is much to discuss, Keeper. I have learned much since I was last here." she took a second to think, then nodded grimly. "Very well, we should speak privately in my arravel then." She stepped aside, letting him pass her into the landship before issuing her orders to the rest of them. Merrill, warn the hunters. If darkspawn are about then I want the clan prepared. Da'len, Tell Hahren Paivel what has happened. He now has the sad task of preparing a service for the dead." Daylen had followed Theron to the fire where he now sat, trying to keep to himself and out of sight. No easy task when you're a human in a camp of elves, but it made him feel better. He'd only be here for a few more moments, he decided, before he would storm the arravel and demand that he and Duncan leave. In fact he was getting to his feet as Duncan and the Keeper emerged. Theron followed close behind him as Daylen moved towards them, trying to keep himself from running, anxiousness to get away taking over.

But as they drew closer, Duncan only spoke with Theron. "Your Keeper and I have come to an arrangement that concerns you. My order is in need of help and you are in need of a cure. When Daylen and I leave, I hope you will join us. You would make an excellent Grey Warden." Theron looked confused, "What does this have to do with my cure?" Duncan looked sad, "Everything, I'm afraid. The darkspawn taint courses through your veins. That you recovered at all id remarkable, but eventually that taint will sicken and kill you – or worse. The Grey Wardens can prevent that, but it means joining us." Theron crossed his arms, resolute, "I will not join out of pity." Duncan's lips curled into a half smile, "This is not charity on my part, I would not offer this if I didn't think you had the makings of a Grey Warden. But let me be clear: You will never return here. We go to fight darkspawn, a battle that will take us far from your clan. But we need you and others like you, such as Daylen."

Daylen smirked, "If you're half as good with your sword as you are with the bow, you'll do fine." Theron sneered at him, still blaming him for their delay at getting to the cave to save Tamlen. Marethari took Theron's face in her hands before he could retort, "A great army of darkspawn gathers in the south. A new Blight threatens the land, we cannot outrun this storm. Long ago the Dalish agreed to aid the Grey Wardens against a Blight, should that day arrive. We must honor the agreement. It breaks my heart to send you away, as it would to watch you die slowly from this sickness. This is your duty and your salvation." Theron looked at her, then Daylen, then Duncan. "Then I accept this privilege, Duncan. If you'll have me." Duncan did smile then, "Then I welcome you to the Order. It is rare to have a Dalish amongst us, but they have always served with distinction." Daylen rubbed his hands together, "So... We ready to go?"

Theron looked sorrowful, past the group to the gathering of the clan then to Duncan, almost pleading. "I'd like to stay for Tamlen's funeral." Duncan blew his breath out of his nose, "We have much ground to cover, but I cannot deny you that. Say your farewells, then we must be off."

"Come da'len. Before the Creators guide you away form us, let your clan embrace you one last time."

They were just cresting a hill when Duncan forced them to stop. In the valley below them were about a dozen spots of light. "Campfires." Theron's breathed, "be they friends... or something else?" Daylen squinted into the quickly fading light, then pointed. "There, they have banners and tents. I don't quite recognize the heraldry though." Duncan nodded, "Human then. Probably from farther north, either Highever or Amaranthine. They will be going to Ostagar as well." He began to make his way down the hill then stopped when he saw they weren't following. "Unless you prefer another night alone..."

The three of them passed the guards circle, Theron could feel it. Or, more accurately, he could feel the aim of arrows on their hearts. It took every once of willpower he had not to draw his weapon, and trust in Duncan. They had even passed the first grouping of tents before they were stopped. "Hail! Who enters the camp?" Duncan held out his hands, placating. "I am Duncan of the Grey Wardens. I have with me two recruits, we are making our way to Ostagar." The man speaking with them stepped aside of the fire, finally revealing his face. He was a younger man, approaching his middling years, with a greatsword strapped to his back and an unfortunate receding hairline that gave him the look of a scared rat. "Grey Wardens?" he whispered, his voice sounding almost awed before shaking his head and growing stern, "Names can be faked." Daylen snorted and whispered loudly to no one in particular, "Many people go around pretending to be grey Wardens do they?" Theron let out a guffaw, but Duncan silenced them with a glare as another man came from the opposite side of the fire.

"Jory! Stand down. You know better than to treat Grey Wardens like that." He wore chainmail covered with a heavier half plate, a longsword across his back. He had thick wavy hair that could have been brown and a presence that dominated those around him. He approached Duncan and offered his hand, "It's a pleasure to see you again Duncan, though I do wish it were under better circumstances.." Duncan returned the handshake. "Lord Fergus Cousland. This is an honor." Theron leaned over to whisper to Daylen, "Who?" Daylen gave the elf a double take before answering – of course he didn't know who this man was! "He's Fergus Cousland, eldest child and heir to Teyrn Cousland of Highever. The Couslands are one of the most important families in Ferelden, second in line for the throne after the king." Theron nodded, giving Fergus an appraising glance, then responded, "He doesn't look all that impressive."

There had been a lull in Duncan and Fergus' conversation as he'd said the last, and now Fergus was looking at him strangely. "who are these that travel with you, Duncan? You said you had recruits?" Duncan gave Theron a look, made all the more menacing by the shadows cast by the fire. "Yes. This is Daylen, a mage of the Circle and Theron, of the Dalish elves." Fergus nodded and crossed his arms. "Master Theron, might I ask you a question?" Theron nodded, wary of the armed and armored human now speaking with him. "Against whom – or what – would you be making that comparison?" Theron raised his eyebrows, "Excuse me?"

"Please, Enlighten me. After all, we've heard many tales of the skill and prowess of the Dalish. I was wondering if you were comparing me to one you knew." Theron shook his head and shrugged, "We too have heard tales of humans, many I'm sure are exaggerated, but I had thought that the son of a nobleman would have a commanding presence amongst his men. Not to mention that he'd be more handsome." There was a long pause around them, broken only by the crackling of the fire, then Fergus let out a hearty laugh. "Well then, I'm sorry to disappoint, Master Theron. I prefer to mingle amongst my men as friends. And in regards to my looks you'll have to speak with my sister about that. She's the beauty of the Cousland family." Theron returned the grin, "I shall have to do that, Lord Cousland." Fergus waved off the formality, "Please. I'm Fergus." Theron shrugged as Fergus continued. "Jory, show my guests here to the food and give them a tent for the night. I'm sure they are tired from their journey."

Later that night, as the flames died down Fergus held an earnest conversation with Duncan. "...Did you follow the main roads?"

Duncan shook his head, "After gaining Theron we cut through the Bannorn, it was the faster route to Ostagar."

"How far south have you come? Have you encountered any other groups like ours?

"No. You're the first, why? Are you waiting for someone?"

"My father and Arl Howe from Amaranthine. I left Highever No scouts, pigeons, at my father's command three days ago with his promise that he would soon follow. I had expected a day, no more, for a delay, but I've heard nothing. No scouts, pigeons... nothing. I'm beginning to worry."

"I'm sure that nothing has happened. The darkspawn haven't scavenged that far north yet. And you can only delay for so long."

"Yes. I was going to leave tomorrow regardless but when you arrived, I had hoped..." He waved a hand in front of his face, "Never mind. Thoughts on this upcoming battle are overwhelming. Most of my men have never fought a darkspawn, let alone seen one. They are nervous."

Duncan watched the flames for a bit before responding, "I apologize, Lord Fergus. There isn't much I can say to prepare them. It is utterly natural to be apprehensive of the unknown."

Fergus chuckled and kicked a loose log back into the fire pit, "I'm beginning to think I was more scared on my wedding day." They shared a laugh before falling into a companionable silence. Fergus gave Duncan a sidelong glance as he spoke next, "My sister asked after Alistair when I left." Duncan didn't move, didn't speak. He just waited for Fergus to finish, "She asked that I give him a letter for her. I thought I might ask you, if it would be alright." Still nothing from Duncan and Fergus blew out his breath, "If it's my parents you're afraid of I can assure you my mother is ecstatic that Elissa's finally found someone she approves of. And Father's just glad that Mother's happy."

Duncan finally shook his head, "No. It's not that."

Fergus' brow wrinkled, "The teyrnir is planned to fall to me, and then my son, Oren. If it's the Grey Warden policy of not taking titles and land that needn't cross your mind. My father can arrange for..."

"No that wouldn't be a problem either."

Now Fergus was thoroughly confused, "What then? What could possibly be so wrong for the two of them to discontinue?" Duncan held out his hand for the letter, "I'll relay your sister missive. Just be aware of this, Lord Fergus, there is more to Alistair than there appears to be. Your sister may end up hurt." Fergus' face grew serious and he leaned forward on his knees, the light of the fire making his eyes glow a hot red. "If that happens, be prepared to lose a Warden, Duncan. No one, NO. ONE. Hurts my sister."

"Very well."


	6. Elissa Cousland

(Three days earlier)

Kallain was staring out Elissa's bedroom window, watching the soldiers gathering below. She could just hear the subtle clink of their armor as they moved in formations of fifties and hundreds, the hoarse shouts of their commanders. It was all so similar to Denerim prior to King Cailan leaving for the south, but so very, very different at the same time. At least she wasn't sitting on a rooftop this time, nor was she alone. Elissa Cousland was kneeling on the window bench right next to her, her nose pressed against the glass in the same girlish manner. "I still say Highever has the better soldiers." Elissa whispered as a small troop of men passed directly below them. Kallain's gaze shifted, trying to see the crests on the shields of the men just through the gate. "A bear...Over a bright sun. Who is that?" She turned in time to see Elissa's sneer. "Ach, I was afraid of that. They're from Amaranthine, Arl Howes lands."

They both sat back as the men marched through the gates and out into the camp beyond. "Arl Rendon Howe is an old friend of my fathers. They fought together under King Maric during the rebellion." She snorted, "Personally, I find the man to be overly rude and completely distasteful. His son Thomas isn't much better." She stood, stretching out her legs, "Maker I hope _he_ didn't come along."

"Why not? I thought all you nobles wanted to intermarry. Keep the blood lines pure or whatnot."

Elissa gave her a look, "If you knew Thomas you wouldn't say that. You'd understand. He's loud, crass, I've yet to get him to maintain eye contact with me and is constantly drunk." She rolled her eyes and grimaced, "I once overheard him say that a woman's place was a mans bedroom and nowhere else." Kallain choked on her laugh which made Elissa smile, "I dunked his head in the punchbowl for that one. I still can't figure out why he's still mad at me." They were both rolling on the bed with laughter, Elissa telling tale after tale of Thomas making a complete fool of himself, when a young human servant knocked and entered. "My lady, I come from the Teyrn. He wishes to speak with you."

"Am I to come alone?" The girl nodded and Elissa sighed. "Very well. I will be right there." As the girl left the room, Elissa slid form the bed and straightened her clothes. She shook her head and sighed, "I wish Mother would let me wear my leathers instead of this get up." The gown she wore was a soft blue velvet, cut to show her slim waist and the soft flare of her hips. The sleeves were actually a double, with the velvet falling away at the elbow to reveal the undersleeve of white silk that tightened at her wrist. The neckline was squared so that her neck looked longer and the velvet setting off the paleness of her skin. Her hair had been brushed to a shine and braided down her back, loose wisps escaping and framing her face. Kallain shook her head, "You look wonderful, Elissa. I wish I looked half as good as you."

Elissa shook her own head and turned to her new friend, "Oh you do. Whenever you're around Nelaros he seems to turn into a lovesick schoolboy. What did you do to him?" Kallain giggled and moved to Elissa's side. She'd been a constant companion to Elissa ever since their arrival four weeks ago, something that Nelaros and Teyrna Cousland had encouraged. Nelaros had been sent on an errand for the Teyrn a few days ago, and Kallain had all but moved into the castle to stay with Elissa while she got acquainted with everything. After adjusting her own skirts, a more subdued gown of muted yellow with a wide brown belt and simple sleeves that came to her elbows. Her hair had grown some since they'd left Denerim, and now it was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face. "Alright then, Let's go see what my Father has to say." She led the way through the upper hallways from the family's chambers to her Father's study just of the atrium. Knocking as she entered, she froze at the threshold when she saw Bryce Couslands company.

"I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and will ride tomorrow just like the old days." Kallain shifted to the side of the door, waiting just outside the room while Elissa forced herself into the room, leaving the door open. Kallain recognized the Teyrn right away, but the other she took a moment to examine. He had slat and pepper hair, with beady eyes and a scowling complexion. "Yes, but back then we fought Orlesians. Not monsters." This must be the Arl Howe, the man that Elissa so despised. The teyrn laughed, "At least the smell will be the same." Elissa coughed and both men turned to them. "I'm sorry pup. I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter?" Howe's smile came off as a sneer, "I see she's become a lovely young woman.. Please to see you again my dear." Elissa gave a slight curtsy, only enough that her mother wouldn't chastise her later for being rude. "And this is one of Elissa's companions, Miss Kallain." In all her years of being treated like a second class citizen, nothing compared to the mixed look of outright revulsion and overwhelming desire that the Arl gave her.

Keeping her mouth shut, Kallain nodded to the Arl as Elissa spoke, taking his attention off from her. "Is your family with you, Arl Howe?" Relief crashed through Kallain as the Arl's eyes moved back to Elissa. "Oh no. I left them in Amaranthine. Well away from any fighting in the south. They do send their best wishes. My son Thomas saw you at the Denerim fair a few weeks ago and has talked about you ever since. He'll be pleased you remember him."

"At any rate, pup I summoned you here for a reason. While your brother and I are away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle." Elissa's shoulders straightened, "What? I cannot go with you?" The teyrn's look turned apologetic, "While I'm certain you'd more than prove yourself I'm not willing to deal with your mother if you join the war. She'd kill me if I let you go. She's already turned in knots over Fergus and I going." Elissa's voice went soft, almost as though she was trying to persuade her father, "Let me talk to her, I can convince her."

"I doubt that. You know your mother and she's made it clear there is no debate." The wind seemed to leave Elissa's sails, "Very well. I shall do my best Father." Teyrn Cousland smiled and clasped Elissa's arms, "Now that's what I like to hear. This is no needless task, pup. I'm asking you to take a great responsibility. Only a token force is remaining here and you must keep order in the region. You know what they say about mice while the cat is away, yes?" Elissa nodded and stood straight, looking every inch the noble she was supposed to be. "Now, do me a favor and find your brother? Tell him he needs to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me. Howe and I must discuss that battle plans in the house." Elissa smiled halfheartedly, "Of course Father."

"Good. We'll talk soon, I'll see you at supper."

The two women were a full passageway away from the study when Elissa stopped moving and leaned against a wall. "I swear to the Maker I cannot – repeat – cannot stand that man. The very idea of being around him makes my skin crawl." Kallain giggled and glanced down the hall to be sure they were alone while Elissa continued to rant, "Did you hear him? 'Lovely young woman...' ugh. He sounded as though he were sizing me up for breeding!" She looked at Kallain then, "And the way he looked at you. Sure as dwarves live underground if Nelaros had seen that he would have skinned Howe alive." Kallain sighed and rubbed her temples, "So now what?" Elissa blew out her breath and shook her head, "We do as we're told. We'll have that farewell dinner with Father and Fergus tonight, watch them leave as they do and stay behind."

"There you are!" The girls both jumped slightly and turned down the way they had come to see Ser Gilmore, captain of the Highever guard, coming towards them. "The teyrna said the teyrn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt." Elissa grinned, "Good thing too considering Father's company." Gilmore's look soured, "Yes, I saw the Arl arrive." Elissa gave Kallain a knowing look and sniffed, "What did my mother need, Ser Gilmore?" He motioned in the direction of the kitchens with his head, "Your hound, Duran, has the kitchens in uproar once again. Nan is threatening to leave.

"Na's just blowing off steam, she won't leave. She loves Duran as much as the rest of us." Gilmore snorted, "Your mother disagrees. She insists you collect him and quickly. She has guests of her own in the castle, the Lady Landra and her son Dairren." Elissa let out a whine, "Oh no. She isn't trying to show me other options for a husband is she?" Gilmore shrugged, "Who knows with your mother, but at the least we need to collect your hound before dinner is delayed any longer." Elissa turned to Kallain, "Apparently I've got some things I need to do. You can return home if you like, change your clothes... have a moment alone?" Kallain smiled, "Of course. I'll see you in an hour."

She made her way through the slightly crowded streets of the Highever village, reveling in the openness that came with it. Instead of the tangle of houses and meandering streets she'd grown up with, Highever's layout was almost methodical. Straight roads and clean house fronts, nothing towering over a certain height and no raw sewage to be seen. Clean and tidy, proof that the people took pride in their home. Kallain had been in shock when she'd first seen it, but over the last few weeks had grown accustomed to it. It felt wonderful to be able to open her bedroom window and not worry about some lout from the street being able to get in undetected. Even her neighbors had been welcoming! Kallain was just passing the small home of Jory and Helena when the woman emerged with a basket of vegetables on her hip. "Good day, Helena! How are you feeling?" The human looked at her for a second before recognition set in. "Kallain! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there? I'm doing well, although this child might just be the death of me. I do wish Jory hadn't left but I can't complain about having that big bed all to myself!" Kallain laughed along with her and opened the small gate leading to their property, "That's wonderful to hear. I'll keep him in my prayers, Helena. Goody day!" Closing the gate behind the woman, Kallain continued on to her own home.

She was barely inside the door before it was shut behind her and hands gripped her upper arms. She could hear heavy breathing coming from whomever it was that held her and she reacted on instinct. Using her own body weight as a hindrance, she dropped to the floor and flipped the person over her head. The hands released her and she saw a cloaked figure hit the floor. Not pausing for a second, she scrambled backwards, lifting her skirt just enough to get at a small dagger she kept on her person for protection. Flipping the blade around so that it pressed against her flesh, she stood and faced her assailant. It was a man, that much she could judge from his height, and still wore a traveling cloak. Taking a few cautious steps backwards, she waited for him to make his move; but instead of lunging for her, he lifted his hands and threw off the hood.

"Nelaros!" She squealed, dropping the dagger and nearly strangling him in an embrace. "Oof! Kallain, you've been training I see. Good!" She pulled back slightly and glared at him, "What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"

"Do it every chance I get? I've only just gotten back and I saw you walking down the street. I didn't want to cause a scene outside, so I waited in here. You're the one who reacted violently, not me." She opened her mouth to protest, but he was quick to silence her with a kiss. "Shush now. I'm home, and as far as I can tell for a good while. Let me wash up a bit then we'll go to that dinner at the castle. I'm sure Elissa will be glad to see me at least." Her lips pulled forward into a scowl and he laughed, running a finger down her cheek, "Oh don't worry love. I've got all the time in the world to show how much I've missed you." He walked upstairs to their bedroom and she followed, moving to the window to watch the market stalls as they finished their day with the last minute shoppers.

If someone had approached her four weeks ago and told her that she would be happily married, living in a house in the human village and be best friends with a human noble, she would have laughed in their face. But here she stood, at her bedroom window, watching the humans below her and dressed in a fine gown that had been a wedding present from said noble. She could hear Nelaros moving about the room behind her, changing hi clothes and washing the dust of the road from himself. Soon he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder, "What are you thinking about?" She smiled, covering his hands with her own, "Nothing important."

"If it's important enough for you to be thinking about, then it must be something." She turned her head towards him, her lips brushing his cheek, "I was just comparing my life now to what is has been."

"And what was your verdict? Is this what you expected?" She giggled and snorted, pulling out of his grasp and moving around him to the wardrobe where her clothes were kept. As she changed from the yellow gown to a subdued grey one she explained, "This? Nelaros as I grew up I watched the humans go about their business, never knowing that just past a stone wall we elves were living lives as well. They had their grand manors and huge castles while I had to share a one room shack – the size of _this_ room – with my father and two cousins. I'd never had a moment of privacy... will you help me with this knot, I can't..." Nelaros moved to help her untie the sash as she continued, "When my father told me six weeks ago I was to be married, what I expected was to be shackled to a man who's biggest dream was to move out of my father's house. What do I get instead? Thank you." Nelaros pulled back and leaned on the bedpost as she finished, "A man trained as a warrior, and not only that, but he is a close friend of a powerful noblewoman! He owns his own home, a small estate in its own right, and that home is in the human village in Highever! I think it's safe to say that this is certainly _not_ what I expected."

As she fell silent and turned to look at him, she couldn't help but marvel at her luck. By their very nature, elves were slimmer and shorter than their human counterparts, Nelaros defied that – just, as she was learning, as he defied everything else convention had set down for them. Standing at six feet with thick blond hair and hazel eyes that could make her heart race, he nearly towered over her smaller five foot four frame. He had put that taller frame to good use, that thick muscles of his upper arms and thighs testifying of his fighting skill. He spoke clearly and evenly, never afraid to speak his mind. He was everything she'd thought she'd never be able to get, and yet here she was, watching him cross the room to her, a look in his eyes that made her knees grow weak,

"Is that all?" He slid a finger beneath her chin. She shook her head and pulled away, "Oh no you don't. I won't have you distracting me." He grinned wickedly, "Distract you? Do I distract you?" She shook her head again and turned to finish dressing when he scooped her up against him and carried her to the large bed. She couldn't stop her laugh as her laid her on it and threw a leg over hers, pinning her to the spot, "Well love? Do I distract you?" He traced a finger down her cheek, following the lines of her body to her waist before looking back up at her, "You are beautiful, Kallain." She sighed, mocking resignation, and smirked, "You may not be what I expected, Ros. But you are certainly a welcome distraction."

It was another hour before the two of them were making their way through the empty streets of the village to the castle. They'd missed the main course, but Kallain hoped they would make it in time for a quick bite of dessert. They waved to the guards at the gate and entered the courtyard to see Elissa and Fergus deep in conversation. Kallain waved Nelaros on while she waited, just within earshot.

"Fergus, you said the Grey Wardens would be at Ostagar also?" Fergus Cousland chuckled and turned to his younger sister. "Yes. Was there someone in particular you were asking for?" Elissa huffed, as she usually did when avoiding a question, "Well, good. I need a letter delivered and..." Fergus just kept on laughing as he took the wax sealed bit of parchment, "May I ask what it says?" Elissa gave him a stern look and shook her head. "Please? Just see that Alistair gets it?" Fergus eyed her carefully while stashing the note in the pack on his hip, "Should I wait for a response?" Again she shook her head, "No. Just be sure that he gets it." He clamped a hand on her shoulder, "Very well, I'll see to it personally. Was there anything else?" She opened her mouth, then thought better of it and shook her head. "No." The siblings stood silent for a moment, each acutely aware that this might be the last time they see each other for a long time. Fergus moved first, "I... Elissa, you are my little sister. I love you and I hope you find someone worthy of you. Take care of everyone and be here when I get back." Elissa smiled and stretched up to kiss his cheek. "Have fun out there... in the cold." she came back to her heels and stepped away form him as he mounted his great warhorse. "Be careful, brother." Fergus' horse reared and he stormed out of the gate to the front of the column of his men.

Kallain came up to her as the rest of the soldiers began to move out. "Elissa?" She turned to Kallain, "Ah, you startled me." She moved quickly back to the castle, "I hope you're hungry, Kallain. Nan's outdone herself this time. There's roast venison and stuffed pork, chicken and turkey from Amaranthine's farms and a slew of breads and greens." They cut their way through a couple side passages to cut through to the main hall. They were just about to the dinning hall when they passed a pair of Howe's men. One of them bowed to Elissa and spoke, "Greetings my lady. You are the teyrn's daughter are you not?" Elissa stopped and nodded, Kallain could smell the apprehension in the air. "Yes. I am Elissa." The man grinned, "That is good to know. I understand you are to take charge of the castle once we march." Again Elissa nodded, "Yes." The man bowed again, "Then I wish you luck. Good evening my lady." AS Howes men walked away, Kallain stepped closer to Elissa and whispered, "That was a bit nosy, wasn't it?" Elissa nodded and bit her lower lip as she thought about it. After a moment she shrugged, "I doubt he meant any harm by it. It's be just my luck that Howe would leave some of his own men behind. Bastard never did approve of my training to fight." They were at the door leading to the main hall now and Elissa nodded to the guard who opened the door.

Kallain couldn't help the slight flutter in her stomach as they approached the high table. She'd eaten with the family a few times before, but each had been a more private affair than this banquet. It wasn't as thought she didn't know how to act in front of nobility, nor was she afraid that her table manners might offend. But the things that Elissa had said about Howe and his family were unsettling, and the way he was glaring at her now wasn't helping. The two women sat to eat and the conversations began, first with the Teyrna introducing her companions.

"Elissa, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Lorens' wife?" Elissa smiled and nodded to the woman seated across from her, "Hello again, my lady. I believe we last met at your mothers spring salon." Elissa's face brightened, "Ah yes! Wonderful to see you again, Lady Landra."

"You are too kind, dear girl. Didn't I spend the entire salon trying to convince you to marry my son?" The young man seated across form Kallain and next to his mother chuckled and winked at her, "And made a very poor case for it, I might add."

"You remember my son? Dairren? He's not married yet either." Dairren rolled his eyes and smiled to Elissa, "Don't listen to her. Pleasure to see you again, my lady. You're looking as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you Dairren. You're looking very handsome yourself." Landra motioned to the elf woman seated on the other side of her son, "And this is my lady in waiting, Iona. Do say something girl!" Iona smiled and nodded gracefully, "Good evening my lady. You are as beautiful as your mother describes." Teyrna Cousland snorted, "She should say that after seeing you in the training salle with Nelaros." Beneath the table Nelaros gripped his wife's hand and smiled. Dairren was stabbing at a bit of roast pork as he spoke, "I remember you, Master Nelaros. You beat me quite handily at the last tourney, didn't you?" Nelaros grinned, "You did well, Lord Dairren. Don't sell yourself short." Elissa nudged Kallain with her foot and winked, "If I remember right, even Fergus lost to Nelaros that day." Dairren chuckled, "As it stands, Lady Cousland, it seems that Elissa has a mind of her won. You should be proud." Eleanor snorted and rolled her eyes, "Proud doesn't get me any more grandchildren." Elissa gave her mother a mocking innocent smile while stuffing a forkful of turkey into her mouth. Nelaros was quick to take advantage, "Oh I don't know, Teyrna Cousland. WE could always invite the Grey Wardens back for a masquerade." Eleanor was quick with her retort, watching her daughter nearly choke on her food as she said, "Ah yes! Now what was the name of that delightful young man that was with them... Alistair?" The group chuckled as Elissa's face turned beet red as she tried to swallow her food before the moment had passed. After a good round Teyrn Cousland leaned forward and waved his hands, "Enough, enough. Pup, you'll want to get an early night. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow." Gratefully Elissa nodded and excused herself from the table.

Elissa awake with a start. The fire in her room had burned down to embers and was casting long shadows around the room. Shaking her head, she glanced around but then she heard it again. "What..." Then it struck again and Duran finally stirred, letting out a soft yelp as he yawned. "Did you hear that boy?" she hissed, slipping from her bed and grabbing her leather armor. The thud cracked through the castle again and Duran let out a bark. "Alright. Come on." As stealthily as she could, Elissa opened her bedroom door and froze. There were two men slamming into the door to Fergus and Oriana's room. Before thinking, Elissa brought up her bow and fired twin shots. Each caught it's main between the shoulders as the door to the family's hall crashed open and a third man rushed at her. She knelt and let the man's own momentum carry him over her, sending him sprawling to the floor. Elissa kicked him hard in the head and let Duran at his throat. While Duran was busy, Elissa went across the hall to Fergus and Oriana's room and banged on the door. "Oriana! Oriana it's Elissa! They're gone, for now." Oriana threw the door open, a sword in hand and frowning. "I heard the thuds earlier and barred the door. I'm glad I did now." She glanced at the men on the floor, "Who..."

"Howe. Howe's betrayed us." Oren raced forward, wrapping his arms around his mother's legs and clinging on tight. Oriana dropped a hand on his head and nodded towards the broken hall door. "How many more of them can we expect?" Elissa shrugged and trotted over to her parents room. It opened as she drew closer and Eleanor aiming her longbow at her daughter. Elissa's hands went up and Eleanor let out a sigh of relief, lowering her weapon, "Elissa." She moved quickly and put an arm around Elissa's shoulders in a tight hug, "I heard fighting outside and feared the worst. Are you hurt?" Elissa shook her head and stepped back, letting Oriana get close. Oren ran to Eleanor and she scooped him up, holding him tightly. "A scream woke me up, there were men in the hall so I barred the door, but..." Eleanor looked at the broken door to the hall, "Little good it did." Duran whined from his place near the door, catching Elissa's attention.

"What is it boy?" she glanced further down the hall, past the guests rooms and pulled him back a ways. "We're not going to be alone for much longer. Where should we go?" Eleanor bit her lip, then gave her daughters a look. "The main hall... That's where your father must be." Elissa nodded and glanced at Oriana. "Are you alright?" The Antivan woman smirked, "Fergus taught me the sword for protection, and I intend to use it."

"Duran and I will take point, Oriana, watch the rear. Oren..." Elissa looked at her nephew, "I'm gonna need you to stay close to Grandmama and your mother, okay?" The little boy nodded and Eleanor set him on his feet. "Come on. We'd better get moving."

Kallain rolled over in bed, her arm draping across Nelaros' body. Or rather where he should have been. Groggily, she pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at his pillow. It was still warm... he couldn't have gotten up much more than a few moments ago. "Nelaros?" she whispered loudly, turning around and looking for him. He was standing at the window, leaning against the casement. "What is it?" she asked, slipping from the bed and padding over to him. He nodded towards the castle, "Something's wrong." She was confused, "What do you mean?" He adjusted his stance and pointed at the castle, "You see the outer wall? Every watch sets out torches to mark their time..." Kallain frowned, "But there aren't any... Oh no." Nelaros gave her a look, "What?" She sighed and walked to the trunk they kept at the foot of the bed, the one holding their armor and weapons. "I know that look you've got. You're planning on storming the castle and I'm not letting you go it alone." He grinned as she threw him his longsword. "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."

Elissa huffed as another of Howes men fell to her blade and wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. Eleanor was behind her with Oren at her feet, Oriana was breathing heavily and blood dripped from her weapon. Duran snarled as he came back to Elissa, making the three women jump and hastily glance around the small treasury room. A mouse skittered behind one of the storage chests and Elissa shook her head, "Mother. It looks like we need a new mouser." Oriana and Eleanor both chuckled as Elissa moved to the door and made sure they were alone. "Come on. We're clear." The small group moved towards the main hall, cutting down a few more of Howes men in the process. Tumbling into the room, Eleanor pushed Oren into a dark corner and then fired at the nearest soldier. Elissa rushed forward, swinging the Cousland blade wide and cutting into another mans leather armor and knocking him backwards. Eleanor took advantage of the clear line and fired a double shot to hit two others. Oriana lunged at yet another man while Duran stood guard in front of Oren, growling menacingly. Once her attacker was dead, Elissa looked up to see Ser Gilmore hack down the mage standing over her. He scrambled to her side and helped her get to her feet, "My lady! You're alive. I'd thought for sure Howe's men had gotten through."

Without thinking Elissa leaned her forehead against her old friends breastplate while her family came closer, "Ser Gilmore... I can't... I just..." Her breath was coming in gasps and she tried to calm it. He brought a hand up and patted her back, "The Couslands will not die this night. I promise you." She sighed and pushed herself away from him. "Where's my father? Have you seen him?" Gilmore shrugged, "When I last saw the Teyrn, he was badly injured and looking for you. He said something about the servants exit in the larder." Eleanor nodded and led Oriana and Oren towards the far door. Elissa gave Gilmore a serious look, "You're sacrificing yourself for us to get away. We won't ever forget this." The guardsman smiled and cupped her cheek, "Lady Elissa. I shall miss training with you. Farewell."

Nelaros shimmied down the embankment, planting his feet on the dirt at the bottom and caught Kallain as she followed close behind. They could hear the shouts of soldiers, from both sides, and the screams of men as they were cut down. The smell of smoke and ash was thick in the air, behind it all the more acrid smell of burning flesh as those trapped inside tried to escape. "We've got to reach the larder. Elissa will find her way there." They were halfway down the hall when they heard voices, two female and the growl of a mabari. Nelaros' heart stopped when they heard a scream and he ran to the hidden doorway. Pushing on the thick stones, he stumbled forward into the larder. Elissa turned on them, her bow armed and a look on her face the Nelaros had only seen in training sessions. "Elissa! It's me!" She lowered her weapon and tilted her head to where her father lay dead on the floor. "Howe's betrayed us. We mad our way here..." Her voice cracked and her eyes watered, "but we were too late." Nelaros went to her and gathered her in his arms while Kallain moved to the other doorway and closed the heavy oak. "We won't have much time before they find us here. We need a plan."

Eleanor was kneeling on the floor next to her husband, "You five go. I'll stay and hold off what I can."

"Mother, NO! We can all leave, now!" Eleanor shook her head, "No Elissa. I will kill every bastard that come through that door to buy you time." She gripped Elissa's hand, "Go. Denerim will be your best hope. Get help for your brother. Save your family." Elissa looked torn, between her instinct to survive and her desire to save her mother. Eleanor got to her feet and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "I know, my darling girl. But you'll have a batter chance without me. Now go. GO!" Nelaros grabbed Elissa's arms and practically dragged her from the larder. Oriana held tight to Oren and followed them with Kallain and Duran taking up the rear. The tunnel was dark and each of them slipped at least once. Oriana was the most recent, just getting to her feet when a faint light could be seen where they'd come from.

"Damn." Kallain swore, tightening her grip on her blades. "I was hoping to make the entrance." Oriana stood next to her and Elissa could see what she was thinking. "NO. Oriana. I just lost my parents, I won't let them kill you too." The light was still faint, but she could see Oriana's grim smile. "And I won't let them kill my son." She turned to Nelaros and in her most commanding voice said, "Nelaros, as wife to the new Teyrn of Highever, I'm ordering you to take Lady Elissa and Oren to safety. I'll slow them." Her eyes fell to Oren, who looked absolutely tiny in the faint light and his stained nightclothes. She knelt, taking his face in her hands and kissing his forehead, "I love you, my boy. Remember that. I will always love you." Oren's face crumpled and Elissa gathered him in her arms, tucking his head down below her shoulder as they ran down the hall.

The last thought Oriana had as the few soldiers drew near was of her son.


	7. Battle of Ostagar

"Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"

Duncan nodded and looked up from the map he'd been examining, waiting for the arguments to end. "They are, Your Majesty." Cailan smiled, "Good. Every Grey Warden is needed now, your recruits must feel honored." Duncan's smirk spoke volumes. Those recruits were still recovering from the Joining, sleeping off the effects in the medical tent, while Alistair kept watch. The Lady Aeducan had gone off to the main army's camp, last Duncan had seen, discussing the coming battle with the small band of Ash Warriors.

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing Cailan, we must attend to reality." Cailan rolled his eyes, "Fine then. Speak your strategy." He leaned forward, pointing to various parts of the map while he spoke, "The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn into charging our lines, and then..."

"You will alert the tower to light the beacon signaling my men to charge from cover..."

"To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Then who should light this beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there, it is not a dangerous task, but it is vital." Cailan gave Duncan a brief glance before speaking, "No. We should send our best. Alistair, I should think. To make sure it's done."

Loghain blew out his breath, "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much! Is that truly wise?" Again the glance to Duncan before Cailan answered, "Enough of your conspiracy theories Loghain! Grey Wardens battle the Blight no matter _where_ they're from." Duncan intervened before things got ugly, "Your Majesty, you should also consider the possibility of the Archdemon appearing." Loghain shook his head, recognizing the deflection of topic, but following it nonetheless. "There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds."

"Isn't that what your men are here for Duncan?"

"I...uh, yes. Your Majesty." A bald mage came in from the side of the table, his look one that made Duncan's skin crawl and his gut roil. There wasn't something completely right about this man. "Your Majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary, the Circle of Magi can..."

A Revered Mother hastened forward, her face stern, "We'll not risk any lives to your spells mage. Save them for the darkspawn."

From nowhere, Loghain spoke. "Enough. This plan will suffice, the Grey Wardens will light the beacon."

"Thank you, Loghain." as the group began to disperse, Cailan motioned for Duncan to stay. Once they were alone, he dropped his voice slightly and leaned in close, "Duncan. Be sure to send one of your recruits with Alistair."

Duncan raised an eyebrow and bowed to the king, "The strongest."

While he waited for Duncan to return from his meeting with the king, Alistair pulled the letter from inside his armor. In the four days since he'd gotten it he'd read it enough that he could just hear her voice as he scanned over the words one more time. He knew exactly where he wanted to read tonight too. Daylen plopped down next to him, stretching his legs out in front of him and groaned. "Hey Alistair. Any idea why Duncan would want to talk to me?" Sighing, Alistair tucked the letter away, swearing he'd get back to it. "You'd have a better chance of asking the Maker instead of me. He's sent Theron to stand with the archers and the dwarves are going down with the king... What could he possibly have in mind for us?" Alistair shrugged, looking up as they heard footsteps grind the fallen leaves into the ancient paving stones. Both men turned to see Duncan approaching. Alistair was on his feet first, "Duncan! So, are we joining the battle or what?"

"No. You and Daylen are going to the Tower of Ishal to be sure that the beacon is lit, it's to give Loghain signal to flank the darkspawn." Alistair sputtered, "What? I won't be in the battle?" Duncan shrugged, "This is by the kings personal request Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge." Alistair snorted, "So he needs two Grey Wardens up there holding the torch, just in case, right?" Daylen rolled his eyes, there it was, classic Alistair, always complaining about something. Sniffing sharply, Daylen bit the inside of his lip before speaking. "I agree with Alistair, we should be in the battle." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. By the Maker he never thought he'd agree with a templar. Ever. "That is not your choice. If King Calian wants Grey Wardens to see that the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn, exciting or no." Alistair's face clearly showed his distaste for the job, but he shook his head, "Fine. Where is this Tower of Ishal, anyway?"

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Serada Aeducan sighed mentally. This was BORING! She'd always hated waiting, most especially before a battle. It made the men nervous and their leaders careless. At least that's the way it worked with dwarves. She had yet to see what it was like for humans, but so far it seemed as though it was the same there. The foot soldiers she was standing with each had adjusted their grip on their swords multiple times and the woman fighter in front of her had tugged at her armor for the tenth time in the last five minutes. Shaking her head she glanced around herself, trying to find something familiar to latch onto, something to give herself a landmark for the battle later. Landmarks were good, she'd discovered. They had been the only thing that had helped her that first week on the surface. The sky seemed so big, so high. She was fine at night, with a fire going, it felt closer. But during the day... with the sun and clouds... she shivered. Something passed through her mind, something she'd never really felt before. No, it wasn't fear. She was a dwarf, the daughter of Endrin Aeducan and the Leader of Orzammar's armies, fear wasn't in her vocabulary. But anxiety was. She looked down at her hands, finally realizing what was making her stomach clench. Her fingers were playing with the clasp if her weapons belt. She'd been fiddling with it for the last five minutes. She balled her hands into fists and forced them to her sides, her axe still strapped to her back beneath her shield. Swallowing, she drew both and took her stance. She wouldn't shame her ancestors by acting anxious. Not around surfacers anyway.

Faren's nose crinkled upwards and he made a face. He couldn't quite find the right words to describe what he was smelling, nor could he really tell _what_ he was smelling. The unwashed humans around him, or their dogs. Even the stench of the forest before the army. Then a gain he couldn't really tell if it was the forest, which the humans called the Wilds, itself or the horde he knew was waiting just out of sight. He'd never fought darkspawn before, but he had been bred to hate them, all dwarves had been. After what the 'spawn had done to the dwarven empire... granted, he wouldn't have had much better options in the old days than he did now, but eh. Who really cared, right? Darkspawn were evil, vile, stench ridden rotting flesh that needed to be eradicated. Rolling his shoulders, he tightened his fingers around the handle of his great axe and inhaled deeply, then cracked his neck. He was ready... So why in the hell did it have to start raining?

That was the third human to miss his target. THREE! Theron Mahariel grit his teeth and fired a double shot, certain of his aim and turned round on his fighting companions. "Lower! You'll never hit your target that way!" He shouted through the downpour, his face contorting into a grimace. They would never win this fight if these damnable shemlen kept this up. They only had so many arrows, they couldn't throw them away like that! Each and every one had to count dearly and help those on the field below. Taking a brief moment to survey it, he saw a small gap where two smaller figures were fighting back to back, weapons swinging wide as they cut through darkspawn flesh and armor. Those had to be the dwarves. Several yards to their right were the king and Duncan, swords flying. His mind flashed briefly with the memory of those two walking onto the battlefield, as though they owned it. And so they did! The way they fought it was as though they had trained together. Just as he and Tamlen had... he shook his head, refusing to think about the differences he found between a shem battle and one led by a proper Dalish keeper. For starters these shem's seemed to fear their mages, and while he had to admit that there were those amongst the Dalish who were afraid of the power that theirs Keeper's wielded, they respected them. Always. But here, amongst the shems magic and all it touched was reviled, thought to be evil and he couldn't quite understand why. Not that he'd had the best reception to the archers ranks to begin with, nor that he had the best opinion of them either. They thought him and all Grey Wardens to be untrustworthy. He'd tried to ignore them, gritting his teeth and checking his arsenal. Then the rain had started and the complaining had begun. No. they weren't complaining, they were whining like young children. So what if the weather wasn't ideal for a battle? What did it matter to them? They were up above the muck and grime, the sweat and blood. That was why he choose archery, it was cleaner... almost easier.

And only almost because if he'd chosen swords he'd not be standing here when the stupid mages around him failed to block an incoming fireball that knocked them to their feet. This was going to be a long night.

Faren hissed and ducked between the Hurlocks legs, twisting as he rolled and coming up fast, knocking the creature forwards onto Serada's waiting axe. She gave his a sharp nod and kicked the thing from her weapon, then turned to fight another 'spawn that came running on them. Faren grinned and raced to her side. He preferred fighting with the princess over the humans, it felt almost right in some way. Or maybe it was because it was easier, easier to read her moves, to modify his own fighting stance to compliment hers without the thought of the possibility of hitting her legs. Four genlocks later he growled in pain. His arms were growing tired and this was never going to end... wasn't there supposed to be some sort of flanking move by some big shot? Scrambling up a large boulder at the side of the field, he whacked his great axe into the gut of a hurlock that followed and turned to see another falling backwards with an arrow through his skull. Damn archer elf, that one was supposed to count as his!

Serada rolled to the side as the hurlock that she had been chasing fell back, arrow through his eye, and paused for just a second. _Just a few breaths_, she told herself, just a second to let her arms rest. Her left arm was numb from the amount of hits she'd taken. Somehow she fell to the side, her shield that she'd been leaning on having been kicked away by a hurlock in impossibly large armor. Her eyes widened and she pushed herself back against the boulder, her angle nowhere near adequate to save her life. The hurlock raised his arms, his sword pointed downward and he gave a gruesome chuckle, the sound grating on Serada's ears. So this was how it ended for her? Was this how she was going to die? On the surface? Alone with no family? Disgraced?! She closed her eyes and thought of home, Orzammar, the palace and Gorim... sweet Gorim. By the Ancestors... why didn't this thing just end it already? Why wasn't she dead yet! Opening her eyes, she saw the thing standing over her, weapon still in the air, but there was something else. The point of another blade was poking through the hurlocks chest. After another breathless heartbeat, the creature fell forward and she barely had time to scooch out of the way as it fell to her side. In the things place now stood a fire haired woman, if you could call the wall of armor and shield that was now above her a woman. It did however nod to her and kick her own shield back to her. Serada clutched it up gratefully, returning the nod in thanks and getting to her feet. Stupid rookie mistake, falling asleep in a battle. Sheer exhaustion could have been the only thing that caused it. Wasn't there supposed to be a flanking maneuver? Wasn't there?

Where was Faren?

"The time's already passed to light the beacon... Quick Daylen, the fireplace." Alistair's voice echoed through the upper chamber of the tower, the floor still slick with the blood from the ogre. Daylen grit his teeth and blasted a fireball at the beacon, his rage making it bigger than his usual control, but he didn't care. How in the Void did a creature that size get up here without leaving a tell? How could they not have seen a trail of broken stones?! Shaking his head, he walked to Alistair's side and spun his staff, blowing his breath out through his nose. "Done."

"_Sound the retreat..."_

"_But the king! Shouldn't we..."_

"_DO as I command,"_

"_... Pull out, all of you! Let's move!"_

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Duncan inhaled sharply and pulled the small throwing knife from his thigh, grimacing as he threw it of to the side. He didn't have time to apply any pressure and by the looks of the field his gut knew they wouldn't survive this battle. The king's resolve was wearing thin and his exhaustion showed on his face, the greatsword he used raising all the slower with each enemy. Should King Cailan die tonight, where would that put... Duncan shook his head and took a swing at an oncoming genlock. Alistair would know what to do, he would be able to lead the Grey Wardens. Duncan had faith in his protege, he would know what to do. He could hear the dwarves shouting something to each other, their rough language almost melodic compared to the harsh scraping and clangs of metal on metal. Their voices were getting louder, they had to be coming closer. He shivered beneath his armor, a hot flash of air breaking through his sweat and chilling him to the bone. He turned slowly, looking up at the grisly face of an ogre. He felt his feet leave the ground and then the hard crash as he hit the ground before the dwarves' feet. The trio looked up in horror, unable to move as the beast lunged forward, grabbed up the king in a gnarled hand and squeezed. Faren's jaw dropped, the sheer power needed to crush a body through the thick metal and padding a warrior wore. Serada's breath caught in her throat, the sheer anger that made Duncan charge at the creature was a thing of beauty. Duncan should have been born a dwarf, because any berserker would have been proud of that charge. And the roar that came with it. No wonder the thing fell on its back as fast as it did...

Duncan raised his head and looked at them as they drew near, Serada dropping to her knees to see what could be done to save him. He shook his head, "No. It's too late... Run, both of you. If nothing else... let it be you two... Rally... allies...Stop the Horde. Above all else..." His eyes rolled and he was staring at the blazing tower, "Protect the king." Faren growled, "What? That's it? He wants us to leave?" Serada let Duncan's head fall to the ground as she stood, looking around desperately. _Protect the king, _That's what Duncan said. So what now, was this some sort of human thing to take a dead body back to its people? The king was dead, as strong as they were they couldn't drag that body out of here! "C'mon, you heard him! We need to run!" Faren snarled and glanced around them as well. It didn't take long for him to turn back to her and hiss, "Dwarves don't run! We make tactical retreats!"

Theron looked up, as everyone did, for that brief second when the beacon was lit. The hope of relief that came with it was almost overwhelming, but Theron's heart clenched when he saw the torches of Teyrn Loghain's army moving away form the battlefield. _Traitor!_ He wanted to scream, but instead he inhaled and turned back. He had to get the others out of this, had to give those dwarves a chance to escape. He could see their twin shadows moving towards the bridge, losing sight of them as the passed beneath him. The archers around him began to whisper, "Where is he?" Where's the army!" He shook his head and kept on firing. He wouldn't leave this spot, he'd been told to fight the horde and he would do just that. Shot after shot flew from his bow, each taking down monster after monster. The creatures were drawing closer to the bridge, those that could climbing the walls near him and scooting across the ledge to get near him. His hand flew back and he felt around for another arrow but none could be found. Swallowing, he removed his lucky dagger from his belt and tightened his grip. So this was it? This was how he would die? Fighting a shemlen war, against enemies of the shemlen and in a place built by the shemlen! How did this happen?! Oh right! He listened to _shemlen_ and followed their directions to a cave where the shemlen had left an elven artifact that could only have be corrupted by the shemlen! Something hot and wet wrapped around his calf, brushing something sharp into the leather. Looking down he saw a dog...what were they called again? Mabari? The animal pulled on his leg, the darkspawn crawling closer to him over the bridge. Shaking his leg loose, he followed the beast into the woods.

Once inside the first line of trees, Theron hissed at the mabari, "Where are we going?" The dog turned to him, then kept on running at a full clip. Rolling his eyes, what had he really expected speaking to a tamed animal? Forcing himself into a light jog he could barely keep up with the mabari as it followed the twists and turns of the disappearing trail. They had just turned a corner on the trail when Theron was brought up short, a thick slice of stained silver, darkspawn blood dripping from the blade cut across his path. Following the line of moonlight on the metal to the man... no, the young – _very_ young man holding it in the air. Theron could see he'd been running hard, his chest heaving with each breath and his arm was shaking from holding the greatsword steady at Theron's throat. "Who are you?" the young man hissed, his figure more shadow than corporeal in the filtered light, and Theron had to stop himself from laughing. "Friend, da'len. Grey Warden."

Carver Hawke's eyebrow raised and he stepped closer, "What?" Theron rolled his eyes and steadied his breath. Shemlen could be so stupid sometimes. He pointed back towards the overrun field, "Your hound just saved my life and now your going to take it? I am a Grey Warden, a friend of your king." The weapon lowered a smidgen, but Carver was still apprehensive. Theron could hear the stomp of anothers footsteps behind the young man and then another shem appeared. Taller, with broader shoulders and thick black hair Garrett Hawke had a presence about him that seemed to set his brother's teeth on edge. Theron could feel the air around them grow thick with tension as Carver's grip on his blade tightened. "Carver! What are you doing?" Carver huffed, "He says he's a Warden, but his accent is Dalish. You know there's a clan near here, what if he's one of theirs!" Garrett rolled his eyes and put his hand over his brother's, pushing the weapon down from Theron's throat. "We Don't have time for this. That horde is coming through these woods and we need to get out of here. WE don't have the energy or the men to take them on." Garrett looked to Theron and lifted his chin slightly, motioning beyond them, "Down that path is our village, Lothering. We need to get there and warn the people that the king has fallen. If you're a Warden you'll join us. If not, then take off. I don't want any trouble and I doubt you do either, especially on a night like tonight." As he finished speaking a great roar crashed over the landscape, the leaves in the trees above their heads quaking with the sound.

"That's a dragon's roar." Carver hissed, and the four of them took of pellmell through the trees towards Lothering.

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Daylen Amell groaned and squinted in the sunlight. _Where... I am in a bed._ He rolled onto his side and looked around. He was on a low slung cot, in a hut, in a very smelly place. That stench... it made his stomach want to loose its contents. What was he doing here? Last thing he remembered was being in that stuffy tower, the beacon filling the room with smoke and ash. He and Alistair had been choking on the stuff, when the door had been flung open... He sat up straight, but instantly regretted it. His head spun and he put his hands to his temples, closing his eyes. "Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased." His eyes opened again and he looked up at the voice. He knew that voice...

"You're the girl from the Wilds. What am I doing here?" She gave a half smirk, but he couldn't tell if it was voluntary or not. "My name is Morrigan, if you'd remember. You were injured, Mother rescued you. Do you not remember?" He snorted, "Rescued me? How?"

"Mother managed to save you and your friend though it was a close call. What is important is that you both live. The man that was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend... he is not taking it well."

_Friend... who the... OH!_ "Alistair?" She nodded, "He is outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke." Daylen found his eyes roving over the girls frame. She was lean and athletic, life in the Wilds clearly honed those who chose to live within them. Strategically exposed skin caught his eye and he couldn't help the grin. Her choice of robes would certainly not fly with the Circle... although he was sure that many of the male mages within its walls wouldn't have complained. He among them. He stood, keenly aware of his own state of undress and smirked inwardly when her eyes registered appreciation. "Then I'd better get going..." He let the sentence end, his intent clearly inferred with his tone. Morrigan rolled her eyes and stepped away. "Keeping my mother waiting is not a good idea." She moved away from him, keeping her back straight. But Daylen could see the slight sway of her hips and the subtle toss of her hair as she knelt before the small fire in the hut. _Oh yeah... that went well._ Daylen smirked to himself and pulled on the undertunic and leather pants he wore beneath his robes. This was going to be fun!


	8. Redcliffe Village

"And I expect each of you to supply these men. We must replace what was lost at Ostagar and quickly." Elissa's hand snapped up to hide her gasp as the Landsmeet chamber erupted into a mess of murmurs and grumbles from the assembled nobles. A man that appeared to be not much older than Fergus stepped forward. "Your Majesty, if I might speak." Elissa recognized the voice, Bann Teagan Guerrin of Rainesfere; younger brother to Arl Eamon and uncle to King Calian... the late King Calian, she reminded herself. In her younger years she had been quite taken with the man, but time had cooled that fire. Now she considered him a close friend, perhaps one of the few that she still had in the world. "You have proclaimed yourself as Queen Anora's regent and say that we must unite under your banner for our own good. But what of the army lost at Ostagar? Your withdrawal was most... fortuitous." The crowd was grumbling again, but Regent Loghain raised his hand, silencing the room.

"Everything I have done I have done to secure Ferelden's independence. I have not shirked my duty to the throne and neither will any of you." Teagan grew angry, "The bannorn will not bow to you simply because you demand it!" Loghain's face darkened and he leaned forward on the rails of the balcony he stood on, "Understand this. I will brook no threat to this nation, from you or anyone." With that, he shoved himself back from the rail and stalked out of the hall, showing the end of the meet. His guard was quick to begin ushering the crowd out the doors, but Elissa hung back as much as she could, waiting for Teagan to pass her. She watched as he glared up at the balcony, then turned and followed the guards direction to leave. Once they were in the outer courtyard gardens she moved around the flowerbeds and cut off his route to the stables.

"I'm sorry miss, I have to get to my horse." He was about to step around her, when she smirked. "The only horses worth having are from Highever." Teagan stopped moving and turned to take a closer look at her. Elissa knew that she must look strange, with her hair pulled back in a tight braid and then covered with a thick shawl pulled forward just enough to require a second glance. The shock on his face mixed with relief as he reached for her shoulders, careful to keep her head covered. "Am I mistaken?" She shook her head, "No. It's me Teagan." He smiled briefly before glancing around the carefully. Thankfully, none of the other nobles seemed aware of their secret reunion, but he pulled her into a more secluded corner of the garden anyway. "Where have you been? All I've heard was that Highever castle had been raided and the family presumed dead." She tried to smile but Teagan could see the pain in her eyes, "No. not all. As far as I know, my nephew and myself are the only survivors." She swallowed hard, "It wasn't a raid, Teagan. Howe betrayed my father. He attacked the castle when there was no one left to defend it and now he sits on the right hand of Loghain. Oren and I have been hiding at our Denerim estate, thankfully Howe's found the Arl of Denerim's estate more to his tastes."

Teagan nodded, "We need to get you out of Denerim. If either Howe or Loghain find you here you will be put to death. We have to get you safe." Elissa's brow knit together, "Safe?! There's a darkspawn army in the south, our king is dead along with those who could stop that army and one of our country's greatest heroes now risks civil war over a fear of outside help." She sighed and rubbed her temples, "Teagan, very soon nowhere is going to be safe." Teagan shook his head, "However right you might be, my lady, should trouble strike Redcliffe will be the best place for you. You'll be far from Loghain's eyes, and the castle is a fortress, able to withstand most any assault." The corners of her lips curled slightly, "I once thought the same of Highever." Gently he raised a hand to caress her cheek, before leaning in to kiss the other, "You have my solemn oath, Lady Cousland, you will return to your home one day." He led her to the outer gate when a woman's voice rang out through the gardens. "Bann Teagan, please!" Teagan glanced quickly at Elissa who suddenly found the ground very interesting as she kept Teagan's arm in a tight grip, "Your Majesty. What may I do for you?"

Elissa bit her lip and while Anora spoke. "Bann Teagan, I would know why you spoke that way to my father."

"Your Majesty, your father risks civil war. If Eamon were here..." She cut him off, "Bann Teagan, my father is doing what is best." Elissa knew Arl Eamon, thought him to be a just and fair man that had was as loved by the people as her father had been. And she knew very well that he would have never approved of what Loghain had done that morning. Teagan stepped away from the queen, taking Elissa's hand in his, tugging slightly, "Did he also do what was best for your husband, Your Majesty?" Even Elissa thought it a low blow, and risked a quick glance at Anora's face as they left her presence. Either she hadn't really loved her husband or she was quite the actress, her face was blank. Once outside the castle grounds, she led him through the back alleys leading to the Cousland estate back gate. She pushed back her shawl and rapped a series of knocks on the wood.

"Who goes?" Nelaros had stood guard at the door ever since she'd left three hours ago and now stood with a sword in hand. Elissa held up her hand and whispered, "Nelaros please. I've had enough blades pointed at me recently to last a lifetime." Nelaros sheathed his weapon and let the two of them inside, eyeing Teagan carefully as the gate closed behind him. "I'm sorry Elissa, but as you said. We all have more than enough enemies after us. Caution is better than death."

She nodded, "Ros, you remember Bann Teagan, yes?" Nelaros' face lightened as recognition dawned, "Ah yes! My apologies, Bann Teagan, but as Elissa has now told you being a Cousland these days isn't the safest." Teagan smiled wanly and waved it off, "Not to worry, Nelaros. You handle that sword well, ser. I'd certainly hate to be counted against your enemies." He turned to Elissa, "How soon can you leave?" She glanced at Nelaros before answering. "When we fled Highever we didn't exactly have time to gather anything. We've our weapons and whatever clothes we've been able to find here, but it's not a lot. Oren doesn't even have a change for his nightclothes." Teagan nodded, "I'm sure there are some of Connor's old clothes at Eamon's estate. I'll stop by there and gather what I can; how many are you?"

"Four. The staff here has been released for their own safety."

"I'll be back within the hour and we'll leave then." Nelaros locked the gate behind Teagan as he left, then rounded on Elissa. "Do you really trust him?"

"Yes, why are you so concerned?"

"I just..." he glanced at the house behind them and sighed, "Arl Howe was one of your father's most trusted friends and he massacred your family. Now you want to follow this Teagan to another friend? Of course I'm nervous! We barely escaped Highever with our lives, Kallain is still nursing that arrow wound on her leg and Oren hasn't said a word since the attack – never mind the fact that he cannot go anywhere without you. You were lucky that he fell asleep so that you could go to the meet." Elissa nodded, trying to keep her voice down. "I know this Nelaros. You think I don't remember that night? Don't you think that I don't still blame myself for Kallain's injury? Every night I pray that I will be able to wake the next morning. Or even that I will be able to avenge my family. But most especially that we won't be discovered. I understand your fear, Ros. But I'm tired of looking over my shoulder for soldiers. I trust Teagan, and his family. We will be safe in Redcliffe, at the least from Howe and Loghain's treachery."

Nelaros shook his head, "Why are you being so stubborn? Can't you see the danger in this? We are safe enough here. No one knows you escaped and no one saw us arrive here. I say we stay." Elissa stared at him, shocked. "Nelaros! I don't see how you could possibly suspect Teagan! He's a good man, worthy of my trust, and yours."

"Your father appointed me to be your bodyguard. I intend to keep my promise to him and the promises to Kallain. You want to take her to a place that I cannot approve of, and I will not let you go either."

Elissa's eyes thinned and she crossed her arms, "Nelaros, You are being impossible.. no, unreasonable! Teagan, and Arl Eamon are good men. They were uncles to King Calian and friends of my father." His eyebrows raised and she hissed at his implied statement, "I know your suspicious and I know this is a risk, but my gut tells me that this is the right move! You also know very well, better than my family even, that I never liked Howe or either of his sons but Teagan is nothing like them. We are going to Recliffe, not because of my nightmares of soldiers breaking down these gates, but because the castle is a fortress. It is built on its own island off the shore of Lake Calenhad! Eamon has a son not much older than Oren and I'm hoping that perhaps he will help him come out of his shell. Plus, Eamon will have access to the Circle and he can get a healer for Kallain's leg."

"And what about you?"

"I get a supporter to help me reclaim my home." the old fire came back to her eyes as she hissed the next, "and men enough to kill a traitor."

Teagan's hour passed and a soft knock echoed through the empty courtyard. Elissa stood at the doorway to the manor as Nelaros let Teagan inside. Teagan looked around the small yard, the look on his face explaining everything. Elissa wore her still bloodstained leathers with her cloak and bow over her shoulders, the shawl from before draped over her shoulders. The young boy next to her kept a tight grip on her hand, a terrified look on his face and the other holding the collar of a fierce looking mabari. Leaning on the far door frame was a pale elf woman, her legs barely able to hold her upright, her left wrapped in bandages stained with blood and puss. She pushed herself off from the wood to follow Elissa but she stumbled over her own feet, forcing Nelaros to move fast to catch her before she fell. Without a word, Nelaros bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the carriage Teagan had brought. Once the elf woman was set comfortably inside, Nelaros helped Oren and Elissa inside then pulling the shades to hide their faces. Once satisfied with their comfort, he pulled back and turned a fierce look onto Teagan. "I'm entrusting their lives to you, Teagan. Don't fail them."

A shade snapped up and Elissa's head popped into view, "What are you talking about? Aren't you coming?" Nelaros shook his head as Teagan climbed inside, "I don't do fortresses, you know that. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on things around here. I'll send a pigeon when its safe to return..." He smiled gently, "Go, Elissa. You may feel safe in Redcliffe, but I won't." He stepped back and shouted to the driver, "Take the swiftest safest route. You've some precious cargo."

It took a week to reach Redcliffe, two days slower than usual with their detour to West Hill to use their healer for Kallain. When the carriage came to a stop at the bottom of the hill leading into Redcliffe village, Elissa was asleep. Her head was leaning back against the seat, Oren's head resting on her lap and her hand protective on his shoulder. The sunshine was coming through the windows in just the right angle to catch red hints in their hair. Teagan couldn't help but smile as he looked at her, her shawl having come back from her face during the ride and her hair now a tumbled mass around her shoulders, and she was peaceful now. During the trip she had stared out the window at the freshly harvested fields of the bannorn, and now she was beautiful. No worry lines cutting her forehead or frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. Slowly he leaned forward and nudged her knee, "Elissa... Elissa." She shifted and groggily whispered, "Alistair?" Teagan drew back, that wasn't a name he'd expected to hear, especially from her. "No, Elissa. It's me, Teagan. We've made it to Redcliffe." She shook her head and sat up fully, "Wha? Oh, Redcliffe." rubbing her face with one hand, she nudged Oren from her lap to wake him, "Oren. Oren sweetheart. Wake up, we're here." Still as silent as that day in Denerim, Oren sat up and rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. He'd changed into an old pair of Connor's trousers and an oversized linen shirt, but the outfit was a darn sight better than the torn nightshirt he had been wearing.

The boy stared at Teagan with wide firghtened eyes as he helped both him and Elissa from the carriage. He didn't move away from Elissa's side and even grabbed up her hand once her feet had touched the ground, clinging to her almost. Elissa used her free hand to remove her shawl and loosen the ties for her cloak. "I've never been here before." She glanced around the small village square while Teagan helped Kallain down. "This is just the village, The castle is back up the hill. You can see it there." he pointed to the shadowy building across a large bridge on an island just off the villages lakeshore. Elissa smiled and knelt next to Oren, "See that castle Oren? See how far away it is? Bann Teagan says we will be safe there. What do you think?" She watched him closely as he stared at the distant building. He tilted his head form one side to the other, before turning back to Elissa and wrapped his arms around her neck. She took a deep breath and rubbed his back, "I know it's not Highever. I know you're scared, but we can't go anywhere else. There's a little boy only a few years older than yourself, someone you can play with. This is going to be home for a while until your father comes back from Ostagar." Oren's arms tightened around her neck and she pulled back a bit to kiss his head, "Oren Cousland. I swear that while we are here, nothing will harm you." She felt him nod and she smiled as she stood.

While she'd been speaking with Oren Teagan had wandered towards a small group of standing soldiers and now he appeared distressed. Gently as she could, Elissa handed Oren to Kallain, "Can you take him to the Chantry? I'm going to see what's going on." Kallain nodded and tugged gently on Oren's arm.

"What do you mean there's no on in the castle? What about Isolde and Connor?" The soldier was shaking his head. "We don't know, Lord Teagan. The gates are closed, locked!, and no one has come back from trying to climb the walls. Also there are other... matters that are more pressing."

Teagan snorted, "What could possibly be more pressing than figuring out why the castle is closed off?!" The soldier stuttered, "Lord Teagan... there have been attacks on the village."

"He sobered slightly, "What sorts of attacks? Darkspawn?" The soldier shook his head, "No. These... things are far worse. They appear to be corpses." Elissa swallowed, "Walking corpses? Is that even possible?" Teagan shrugged, "I've never known Perth here to lie, but I'll admit it sounds a bit far fetched." Perth smiled, For once, Lord Teagan, I wish I was lying. They attack at night, and every night we lose more people. I've ordered barricades built and all who can to fight, but it doesn't seem to help." Elissa was nodding now, "Why not bring all the women and children to the Chantry? It appears to be the strongest building here." She turned to Teagan, "I'm sorry Teagan. This is your brothers village..." Teagan shook his head, "No, go ahead. I'll check with the remaining men to gather who they can to the Chantry. Ser Perth, whatever the Lady Elissa suggests, should you find it a sound idea, follow her order as you would mine." Teagan spun on his heel, barking orders at those standing around the square. Perth turned to her, "So my lady, where do we begin?" She sighed and untied her cloak, lumping it on the stoop of the Chantry along with her shawl and weapons. "While he brings them here, we should fortify the Chantry on the risk of it being breached. There are benches and shelves inside I know for sure, we should use them to block all but this main entrance."

Oren sniffed and shuffled his feet in his sleep, bumping Elissa for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning. She'd come in just after daybreak, exhausted and nursing a wounded shoulder. Mother Hannah had bandaged it as best she could, given her limited supplies, but it wasn't much. Thankfully, no infection had appeared in the three days since the injury, but Elissa was counting herself lucky. Lucky she could still coordinate Redcliffe's defenses with Teagan and lucky that she wouldn't become one of the monsters she fought each night. Leaning up on her good arm, watching him sleep, calculating how long it had been since Howe's assault on Highever. It had taken them five days to reach Denerim, mostly traveling at night to avoid detection (although she had to admit that they went completely undetected. Kallain had taken a bandits blade to her thigh). They had been in Denerim for another week, a week to escape to Redcliffe and now another week fighting the undead. What was that... a month? A whole month? Oren hadn't said a word that whole time to either herself or Kallain... or even Nelaros who he'd seemed to especially like, and now she was beginning to fear that he might never speak again. Sighing, she brushed back a stray hair from his face; even as annoyingly clingy as he had become, Oren really was a good looking boy. With his father's hair and Oriana's eyes. Despite his lack of speech, Oren still carried himself like the child of a teyrn. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Stretching her back slightly, she repositioned both herself and Oren, and tried to recapture the Fade again.

Somewhere in the hazy fog between sleep and wakefulness a door slammed, a cool breeze washed over her and Elissa stirred. Rolling over, she found herself alone on the cot she shared with Oren, where was he? She forced herself into a sitting position, "Oren?" Raking her fingers back through her hair, she looked quickly around the small infirmary they'd set up that first night. "Oren!" She called again, her voice hoarse. Struggling to her feet, the others around her watched as she stumbled towards the curtain that served as a door. She fell against the shelves on either side of the door, scanning the larger Chantry hall. "OREN!" A few of the people near her turned to see what the commotion was. She wobbled towards a young woman, Kaitlyn if she remembered right. She knew that Kaitlyn had a younger brother about Oren's age, maybe the two of them had run about to play... but Elissa's gut said otherwise. "Kaitlyn, my nephew... Oren. Have you seen him this morning?" Kaitlyn shook her head, her arms reaching for Elissa, "My lady, you don't look so good. I don't think you should be up and about." The young woman moved to help her, but Elissa shook her off. "No... I... I need to find..." Elissa saw Teagan walking towards them and started moving in his direction. "Teagan... Teagan, I can't... I can't find..."

Teagan caught her as she collapsed, "Kaitlyn, get the Revered Mother. I think Elissa's torn her wound." As the girl ran off, Teagan picked Elissa up and carried her back to the infirmary. "As for you, my lady, you should be resting. Healing!" She shivered against him and he tightened his grip. He had hoped that her infection would pass quickly, but after three days his hopes were growing thin. He laid on her on her cot, draping her cloak over her shaking frame and knelt beside her. Teagan knew he should be helping the villagers, but Murdock and Perth and a better grasp of things. They could handle the preparations for now, especially with the Lady Kallain helping them. Mother Hannah hurried over and he stood again. "I think her wound has reopened, Mother. I'm afraid her fever is getting worse." The mother nodded and waved over a young woman to help her. "I think that elven woman she brought with her just came back with her nephew," she looked at Teagan, "It might be best for that boy if he didn't see her like this." Teagan nodded and left the infirmary. The young girl had been right, Kallain and Oren were just walking into the Chantry. Kallain looked at Teagan, a half smile on her face that quickly faded as he drew closer. Oren silently watched it all, the exchange of nods between Teagan and Kallain, then ripped his hand from Kallain's grip and raced for the infirmary. Both adults tried to stop him, but he was smaller and faster, ducking between their legs and stopping inside to stare at his unconscious aunt. Mother Hannah was working furiously to cover the wound as they re-entered, but Teagan saw enough.

Elissa's shoulder was horribly bruised with deep gashes scattered across her fair skin. Many of those injuries appeared to be freshly healed but the one at the center, the one caused by the stray bolt, looked a sickly green color that oozed a thick yellow puss. Gently, Mother Hannah washed then redressed it, recovering the girl with her cloak and one of the few spare blankets. As she moved away, Oren laid on the bed next to her, curling into her side and biting his lip. Hannah drew even with Teagan, the bowl of red water and stained bandages in her hands, "We need a healer, Bann Teagan. Or at the lest someone with a healers potion. That girl is in a bad state." She looked back at the sleeping Couslands, then gave Teagan an apologetic look. "I will pray for her, that the Maker allow her to stay with us a little longer." Teagan nodded, thanked her then turned to Kallain. "Any news?" She shook her head and he heaved a sigh, "Very well. Perhaps you could try speaking with Owen. Elissa said he was drunk when she last spoke with him, maybe he has sobered some since then." She nodded, then slapped her leg for Elissa's mabari, Duran, to follow her. The warhound glanced at her, then back at his sleeping mistress. Trusting that she was truly asleep, Duran got up from his guard post near the infirmary and bounded after Kallain.

Teagan looked back at Elissa as she slept, Oren shifting every so often, turning finally to hold her tightly. She was young and strong. She'd pull through this... right? A young man approached him, a small group of people trailing after him. "Bann Teagan! I have brought help!" Jarred from his thoughts, Teagan turned to the newcomers. "It's... Thomas yes? And who are these with you?" Teagan offered his hand in friendship to them, "Welcome friends. I am Teagan, bann of Rainesfere and brother to the arl." A blond young man in the group smiled, "I remember you, Bann Teagan. Although the last time we met, I was a lot younger and covered in mud." Teagan's brow wrinkled, "Alistair!? By the Maker! It is you! I hardly recognized you. This is wonderful news!" Alistair smirked, "Still alive yes. But not for long if Loghain has anything to say about it." Teagan's eyebrows raised then lowered in agreement, "Agreed. Loghain would have us believe that all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things." A red haired man at their head joined in, "So you don't believe Loghain's lies?"

Teagan snorted, "That the Grey Wardens led my nephew to his death and doomed us all? That he pulled his men in order to save them? That Calian risked everything in the name of glory? Hardly." The red haired one smiled, "That's a brave way of thinking." Teagan shrugged, "Loghain calls all Grey Wardens traitors and murders of a king. I don't believe it, it is the act of a desperate man. You're here to see my brother then?" Alistair nodded, "I'm sorry to tell you then that no one's heard from the castle in days. We've been fending against attacks."

"What do you mean?" Teagan shook his head, "Evil... things come from the castle. We drove them back but many were injured during the assault. Some call them the walking dead, Decomposing corpses with a hunger for human flesh. They hit again each night, and each night in greater numbers. I fear tonight's attack is going to be the worst." He shook his head, "With Calian dead and Loghain starting a war over the throne, no one has answered my urgent calls for help. Alistair, I hate to ask, but we desperately need the help of you and your friends." Alistair shook his head, "It isn't just up to me, Bann Teagan. Though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon." A young woman in the group, with dulled red hair cut short to her chin, reached forward and grabbed the red haired mans arm, "We can't just leave these people!" He looked at her then back to Teagan, "Of course we'll help however we can."

Teagan smiled and was about to speak when the great doors at the front of the Chantry slammed and Kallain stormed inside, twin blades strapped to her back and thick studded armor showing her curves, "THAT IS IT! I REFUSE to deal with that wretched little man ever again!" She walked to Teagan's side and stopped, Duran plopping himself at her heels, panting happily. "I cannot see how Elissa dealt with him. I don't think he appreciates how lucky he is to be drunk or he would be missing a hand... no, both!" Teagan's smile strained and he motioned to the group, "Lady Kallain, these are Grey Wardens. They've offered to help us." She turned on them, the look in her eyes measuring each of them slowly. The elf in the group knew that look, it was one he used often on his enemies to see if they were really worth his time. They must have passed her test, because she smirked, "Well now, it's about time someone responded to our call." He liked this woman!

"Kallain, there's no need to be uncharitable, they wish to help." Kallain scoffed, "Help? HELP is what we needed when we arrived here. HELP would have been nice for the week of fighting the walking dead! HELP could have prevented several of the losses we've suffered. What we need now is a miracle!" Theron laughed, making all of them stare at him strangely, "Like it or not, we're all you get." She sighed, "Very well. You can speak with Murdock, the city leader, outside in the square. He's trying to get the men together into some form of a militia. He could certainly use some help. There's also Ser Perth up the hill at the windmill, he's got a better grasp of the lay of the village's defenses. While the majority of the group made to leave, the red haired girl glanced at Alistair, "Alistair, are you coming?" He shook his head, "No, I'm going to talk things over with Teagan." She nodded and left with the others.

After looking around the hall, Alistair stepped closer to be sure his whisper was heard, "How did you hear about Loghain's edict? We only learned it ourselves when we passed through Lothering." Teagan wrapped an arm around the younger mans' shoulders, walking him towards the raised dias where Mother Hannah preached. "I was at the Landsmeet. He called it as soon as he arrived in Denerim three weeks ago." Alistair nodded, "The, uh, … the elf." Kallain snorted, "My _name_ is Kallain, Warden."

"Kallain said you had wounded?" She brightened slightly, "You wouldn't happen to have any spare bandages or potions would you? We've run out and there are some who are in desperate need, especially..." Alistair's curiosity was piqued, "Especially what?" Teagan looked at Kallain who shrugged, "Ever since Elissa got hurt five days ago." Alistair's eyes widened and his hand closed around his right forearm. "Elissa? Elissa Cousland?!" Teagan knew about the would be romance between the two of them. Alistair's name had come up multiple times during Elissa's fever induced delirium, then couple that with how they had acted at Calian's farewell banquet... "Yes. She took a bolt to the shoulder a few nights ago and we've been unable to stave of infection. She fell into a fever two days ago and nothing we have done will rouse her from it."

Alistair spun to Kallain, "Where is she?" She glanced at Teagan then sighed, "Follow me." She motioned to the infirmary curtain and began to walk away. Alistair gave Teagan a worried look then followed Kallain before she disappeared. Kallain led him down an isle, more like a hodge podge path, through dozens of pallets and cots, each filled and every occupant in a various state of healing. Past them was another curtain, hung over a rope stretched between two bookcases separating one lone cot and the rest. Kallain pulled it back, and there she was. Her hair was slick with sweat and sticking to her paler than normal skin. The thin undergown she wore was near transparent and clearly showed the dirty bandage on her right shoulder. Thrown over her small frame was a blue traveling cloak, mud stained and with a frayed hem. Seated beside her cot was a younger boy, couldn't have been more than four or five years old, with brown hair and brown eyes. Before he could ask anything of Kallain, Elissa let out a groan and her head tossed on the thin pillow. His gut wrenched and he knelt, the steel of his heavy chainmail groaning as he did so. "Kallain, the fire headed man I travel with is a mage Warden. Go get him and tell him I will need both his help." She hesitated for a second and he looked up at her while removing his gauntlets "GO!" The young boy next to him jumped at his shout, then began to shake his head as Alistair reached to brush back Elissa's hair. Surprisingly, Oren reached forward and grabbed his wrist, "Wh...What? Alistair murmured, giving Oren and confused look. Oren shook his head, moving as though to block any other move that Alistair might make. "Don't worry." he whispered, trying to be calm. He had taken Oren by the shoulders and was trying to reason with him when Kallain and Daylen returned.

Kallain moved quickly, picking Oren up and walking with him towards the small church area they'd set up earlier, whispering soothing words as Alistair and Daylen began working basic healers magic. "No... wait. I thought this was a bolt injury?" Alistair nodded, his cheeks warming as Daylen peeled back the layers of bandages from Elissa's skin. Kallain returned and heard the last, "Yes. I saw the hit myself." Alistair looked up at her in surprise, "You saw her get hit? What was she doing out there?" Kallain rolled her eyes, "Elissa is one of the best archers in Ferelden, and the only one of any training we had here. Of course she was fighting!" Alistair shook his head and waved Daylen off, putting his hand above the wound and chanting softly. Daylen stood and went to Kallain, "I heard the things you are fighting are undead, is that right?" Kallain nodded and he twitched his nose, clearly irritated, "Whatever weapons they were using appear to have been magically enchanted. It's a spell those with templar training can dispel rather easily." he smiled at her, "She'll be alright. She should be up and about by tonight."

An hour later her fever broke, her wound showed signs of closing and she was waking up. Oren appeared to be ecstatic, wrapping his small arms around her weakened frame, hugging her tightly. Kallain and Teagan stood behind him, smiling stupidly as her still hazy gaze drifted over to them. "You gave us quite the scare, my lady." Teagan said, his face still showing hints of worry. The corners of Elissa's mouth twitched, "It'll take more than a bolt to the shoulder to slow me." Kallain shook her head wistfully, "Be that as it may, you're not to leave the infirmary tonight. We've enough men and mages to assist us." Elissa was confused, "Men and mages enough... where'd they come from? What have I missed?" Kallain blew out her breath and kicked at the ground, "Grey Wardens and their companions."

Elissa's breath hitched, "Grey Wardens? I thought they all had..." Her eyes moved to Teagan, "Who are they?" He smirked, "A mage form the circle tower, Daylen. A dalish elf, Theron, and a dwarf named Faren." She licked her lips, he could see the pain surfacing through the haze. "And Alistair." Elissa's breath caught, "Alistair lives? He's here?" She tried to get up, but her arms protested and she fell back rather unceremoniously onto her pillow. "Good to see your body at least knows to obey." Elissa rolled her eyes, "You're to stay put, that's Alistair's order Elissa." She huffed but Oren put his hands on her cheeks and stared hard at her. She slowed her breathing and watched him carefully for a moment. "Alright Oren. I will stay." Oren smiled then snuggled down onto a pallet set up next to hers. Teagan bowed to her while Kallain tucked Oren into his own bed, then went to stand with the few men stationed inside the Chantry. Should the outside fall, these few men – including the pair of dwarves and two mabari hounds – would be Redcliffe's last line of defense. And may the Maker have mercy on their souls if it came to that.

"Dawn arrives and we all remain. We have been victorious!" Elissa could hear the shouts of the surviving villagers outside the Chantry. 'Let them have their moment.' she told herself, slowly climbing the stairs that led to the upper part of the sanctum of the building. It was from here that the revered mother preached. It was also where the nobility – and royalty – were allowed to sit, separating them the unwashed masses and away from the mother's eyes. In smaller villages, such as Lothering, the podium was usually only a raised platform a few steps above the general populace with a bench set at the abck for visitors of importance. The raised position allowed the Chantry to further remind people of it's own brash ego while still trying to be humble... or at least, that was what Father had always said.

At the back of the raised section was a stained glass window, depicting the prophetess Andraste praying in a thick forest glen, the shite and gold of her image standing out in stark contrast to the greens and browns of the surrounding trees. Beneath the window stood the traditional statue of Andraste, with one hand on her heart and the other outstretched to the heaven's. Normally, on either side of this statue were tables stacked with candles meant to give comfort to those who had lost a loved one. But those had been confiscated by the defense force and were no on their sides blocking the back garden entrance to the Chantry. She saw all this, but the one thing that caught her eye most was the figure kneeling before the statue. His armor was bloodstained, the cloak he wore hanging limply from his shoulders that seemed to sag under some unseen burden. Where once she would have expected a proud warrior of Ferelden, now was a shadow of his former self. Aye, Alistair the Grey Warden had definitely changed.

He stirred at the sound of her footsteps, turning to get a better look at who was coming towards him. The shawl that she'd once worn to hide her hair now held her arm in a sling. Her leather armor had been cleaned and polished, a longbow of sylvanwood strapped to her back. He hair had grown some since he'd seen her, and was now braided into twin buns. She opened her mouth to speak as he stood, "Your fellow Warden, Daylen, told me what happened at Ostagar." He grunted noncommittally, looking past her to the main door. She ignored it and continued, "Alistair, I'm so sorry."

His empty gaze turned to her, "Teagan told me what happened to your family." She inhaled sharply. "That still doesn't change that what I said or how much I meant it. Yes, I've lost my family and yes it hurts deeply I've got friends to lean on, but you have..." His eyes narrowed angrily, "I what? I don't have anything, is that what you're saying?" She shook her head quickly, "No, I..." He ignored her, "Of course not! The great Lady Cousland couldn't possibly mean to insult an inferior person such as myself." She frowned, "Alistair, what is this really about? I came here to offer my condolences on Duncan and the others of your Order, and you begin yelling at me." He set his jaw and crossed his arms, "Why are you here, Lady Cousland? As in here, in Redcliffe." She took a small step backwards, shocked, "What are you doing here?" blinking rapidly, she shook her head, "When Kallain, Nelaros and Oren and I escaped Highever we had to go somewhere. We barely made it to Denerim, I was lucky to catch Teagan as he was leaving the city! He offered us sanctuary here and I leaped at the chance." He didn't move, "Alistair, why are you so angry?" His jaw clenched then released as she pointed to her shoulder, "How's your wound?" She glanced at her shoulder then gave him a fleeting smile, "It's stitched itself together finally. Your companion Morrigan says I should have full use of my arm within a few days." He nodded, silently. Then closed the distance between them in a few short strides. His features changed to something gentler as his thumb traced her jawline. "I'm sorry Elissa. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Not after all this." She snorted and closed her eyes, It had been too long since she'd been able to just trust like this. She was no weakling, she'd proven that many times over, but it was certainly nice to be treated like a woman every once in a while.

"Alistair, what happened at Ostagar? Daylen said you were.. well, distraught." That cold look came back to his features and his hands clasped the back of her neck, "Elissa, you don't... I can't... I can't begin to tell you what..." He sighed and she inched closer to him as tears leaked form beneath his closed eyelids. His shoulders began to shake and she pressed a hand onto his chest. He reacted, wrapping his arms around her and dropping his head onto her shoulder, pulling her tight into himself. She hissed at the sudden pressure in her shoulder and he dropped her almost instantly, "Oh. I'm sorry Elissa. Are you alright? I shouldn't have... I'm such a fool." She smiled tightly, she hoped it didn't look like a grimace as the pain subsided in her shoulder. "I'll be alright, Alistair. I'm just a little faint is all." He led her to one of the remaining benches and sat her down, sitting next to her and dropping his head into his hands. "I should have been there. On the battlefield with him." She gave a soft sigh and let her hand fall to rub his back. "You couldn't have known what Duncan was going to die that night. There was no way for you to know that Loghain was planning on betraying the king." He lifted his head and glared at her, "I should have! He was one of my closest friends! I should have gone with him! I should have done something. I could have had Daylen transport us to the field, I should have made sure that Serada and Faren got him out of there alive. Theron could have shot that ogre." tears crept into his voice and she pressed her hand to her mouth. He was hurting, deeply.

Without thinking she slid to her knees in front of him and took his face in her hands. He was blinking rapidly, trying to hide tears that hadn't yet fallen. Gently, she used her thumb to wipe his cheeks, before leaning up to kiss each. "Alistair, my..." she stopped herself and started again, "The world is full of what ifs and should haves. At some point, no matter how painful, we need to accept that our loved ones are gone and move on. Your fellow Wardens, all two of them, need your leadership. You are the most senior warden in Ferelden now, and the three of you are the worlds only hope to stop this Blight. Duncan wouldn't want you moping about like this." She ran her hand over the top of his head and stopped at the back of his neck, fingers absently playing with the slight curls there. "I believe in you, Alistair of the Grey Wardens." His eyes were glued to her face, "What? Lead? _ME!_ I can't even get a thirsty horse to drink! Bad things happen when I lead, we get lost, people die and then the next thing you know, I'm lost somewhere without any pants." She smiled, "So worrisome. Take it one step at a time, my Warden. Start here, with Redcliffe, then gather your army."

She could see he was thinking about something, "I could have Serada and Faren go to Orzammar... they would know who to speak with. Daylen knows the Circle best and Theron might be able to find the Dalish. Yes, that might work! It might make this whole thing easier... smaller groups draw less attention..." She smiled, kissed his nose and rested her forehead on his, "See? You have friends. You're not alone." He quirked an eyebrow, "Just friends?" She sighed and shook her head, Alistair was back. "Perhaps... if you take me on that moonlit walk you once promised me." He smirked and drew her close, kissing the top of her head, "I think I like the sound of that."


	9. Broken Circle

Alistair tightened his sword belt and walked out of the castle, the bright sun a stark contrast to the dark and foreboding interior. Daylen was already standing at the top of the main stairs, his hound Natia panting happily at his feet. Daylen glanced backwards as Alistair drew closer, then dropped a hand on Natia's head. "Should only take me a few days to get there and back. A week, tops." Alistair nodded and looked around the small courtyard where only a few seconds ago he and Daylen had fought their way through shades and more of the walking dead. Now his few companions were gathered there, along with a few new faces. "Alistair?" he shook himself and nodded, "Yes. Go ahead. We should be fine here." Daylen took off down the stairs, Natia following close on his heels, barking a quick goodbye to Elissa's hound, Duran.

Elissa looked up at Alistair as he made his way down the stairs, motioning to the dwarves Serada and Faren. He would be telling them to make their way to Orzammar with Leliana; the Dalish elf – Theron, if she remembered right – would be taking the young lady Morrigan. Elissa didn't quite know what to make of her, she was indifferent to everything but wasn't shy about voicing her opinion. Elissa had an inkling that she was going with Theron just so that Alistair could get away from her. He and the Qunari, who insisted he be called Sten, would be going on a fools errand to fetch Andraste's ashes, and she was determined to go with him. "How do you think he'll react?" Kallain whispered as he spoke with the dwarves. Elissa snorted, "If he knows what's good for him, he won't say anything except 'okay.'" Kallain moved to watch Elissa's face, "And if he doesn't?" Elissa smirked and winked at her, "He'll learn to not do that." Both girls let out a giggle, but sobered quickly when they saw Alistair moving towards them. "And what are you doing here? I thought you'd be inside, with Oren." Elissa swallowed and glanced at the main doors, "He's taken a bit of a fancy to Teagan, actually. And Teagan's agreed to watch him for me while I'm gone." He looked confused, "Where are you going?" She raised her eyebrows, "With you. I thought that was obvious." She motioned to her travel pack, the bow and quiver of arrows on her back and the leather armor she wore.

He pointed to her arm, although free of its sling it was still wrapped in bandages. "You're not going anywhere." Kallain inhaled sharply and stepped backwards, shaking her head. Alistair watched her move off then turned his attention back to Elissa, "You're injured. I can't let you leave." Elissa took a slow breath and tried to stay calm, "You can't _let_ me leave? Since when did you _own_ me?" He shifted on his feet and exhaled. This was going to be interesting. "No, I didn't say that." She folded her arms, "Then what did you say?" He looked around them, his expression clearly wanting them to be alone. Kallain chuckled beneath her breath and leaned against the gatehouse. She hadn't seen something this funny since she'd left the Alienage, and knowing Elissa this was gonna be good.

"I don't want you hurt. We don't know what we'll encounter out there and you've family here."

"So? I didn't know if Howe would catch me in Denerim and here I stand."

"This is different, the trail will be rough, we'll be going through some virgin terrain."

"I'm Elissa Cousland, not Empress Celene. I can handle rough."

"It'll be close quarters, you'll have to carry everything you need."

She kicked her pack, "Got a tent in here, bedroll too. This isn't the first time I've done this."

He was losing his patience, "As a Grey Warden, the darkspawn will be following me; you'll have to fight them."

She shrugged, "I've fought the undead, at night, for a week straight on minimal sleep. I think I can handle a few darkspawn."

"We'll need to set up watches. Guard our backs against them and Loghain's men."

"Did I forget to mention running for my life? In the dead of night? From a supposed friend of my fathers? I'm pretty sure I didn't forget hiding out in my family's estate, still fearing discovery."

"You'll be safe here!"

"You'll be safer with me at your back!"

That brought him up short, "What?"

She swallowed, "Alistair, I can't watch another group of warriors leave a castle without me. The last time that happened the castle was attacked."

"That won't happen here."

"Can you promise that?"

"No. You know I can't."

"Then I'm going with you."

He sighed, "Elissa, why can't you be reasonable about this?"

She grinned and shouldered her pack, "I am. Kallain and I are going with you and that's the end of it."

"Kallain! Now what just a minute..."

Elissa gave him a look, "Don't tell me I'm gonna have to explain _that_ one. It's bad enough I'm leaving Duran behind to be something familiar with Oren, but you want to leave behind someone who's had my back since Highever?"

He looked hurt, "What about me?"

She swallowed again and kicked at the ground, "_You_ left me." Straightening her shoulders, she sighed and tossed her hair, now in a ponytail atop her head, "You left me that night of the Landsmeet, remember? Fergus left me the night of the attack, left Oren as well, and Nelaros made me leave him at the estate but Kallain has been there this whole time. I'm sick and tired of people leaving. This time, I'm taking charge. I'm going with you," she stepped up to him, poking his chest with her first two fingers, emphasizing each word, "and you can't stop me."

He shrugged, "Okay then."

Daylen was halfway across the bridge when he heard her voice. "Heading to the Mages tower, I see. So willing to obey, even now?" He stopped and turned around, Natia looking up at him then gave a soft 'woof'.

"Let me guess, you have an opinion about them too? Let's hear it then." She looked a bit hurt, then continued, "You want to ask for help from those petty excuses for mages? They allow themselves to be corralled like cattle. Mindless." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Have a care how you speak, Morrigan. I came form the Circle, remember?"

"And from what I've heard I am perfectly justified in my beliefs, if not proven right." Daylen glanced at Natia, unsure of where he wanted this to go. This was the moment that would decide their relationship. If they would even call it that. He'd had dreams, rather provocative dreams of the two of them. He wondered if she had had the same, after all, a mage doesn't really sleep in the Fade.

"You could have been one of them, if Flemeth had not been your mother." She huffed, "I could have been a warrior as well! Do not dwell on what if's, Warden. They do you no credit." She was about to walk away when he shouted after her, "You were going to ask me something. Have it out, otherwise it'll eat you alive." She stopped and he could see the cringe in her shoulders. If he had learned anything about Morrigan, it was that she despised asking for help. Their first night outside of Lothering, she'd even gone so far as to set up her own camp aside form the rest of them. Together, but apart.

"I see an opportunity in which I should take advantage, nothing more." He cocked and eyebrow and smirked, she grimaced and continued. "To the point; my mother once once divested of a particular grimoire by a rather annoying Templar hunter. It occurred long before I was born, but even today Flemeth speaks of the loss with great rage. With you heading to the Tower of Magi, it occurs to me for you to search for it, for it certainly eventually ended up in their hands."

"And what makes you think the Mages still have this book?"

"Flemeth is a source of legend is she not! And her grimoire would more than a curiosity to mages that daren't even glance towards the places my mother has walked for eons."

"Most books are."

"I would like to have it. No doubt it is considered something dangerous, perhaps best locked away somewhere safe, yes? And if not then I know that it doesn't exist. But should it, it shouldn't be so hard to find even for one as blind as you. It is bound in thick black leather, adorned in the symbol of a leafless tree, should you come across it."

"And what would be my reward for returning with this?"

She scowled and walked off after Theron. He watched her leave, noticing the subtle shift of her rough stitched clothing around her backside. Shaking his head, he patted Natia's and clicked his tongue. "C'mon girl. Let's go see what Neria's up to."

Neria Surana was a beautiful young elf and every man – mage and templar alike – in the Tower knew it. In the weeks since her Harrowing and the departure of her friends she had blossomed. Daylen really had to have been the protective elder brother because her spells had grown in power, she'd grown her hair out and her even begun wearing the new robe style from Orlais that exposed her shoulders and had a tight corset. She'd taken to spending her free time in the library, often curling upon one of the few windows for better light.

It was while she was seated thus, lost in the worlds between the thick leather covers, that others would notice the templar. Cullen would sneak into the library and take a specific post, the perfect spot to watch over Neria. Some of the more senior mages would gossip about it, his not so secret crush on her but Neria ignored it. She had more important things to do than be... distracted by the rather disturbingly handsome templar. It was because of the templars that her friends were gone. Solona was dead, Daylen had been conscripted by the Wardens, albeit rather willingly, and Jowan was now an apostate! After the fiasco with Jowan's phylactery Greagior had taken Neria into his office and had interrogated her for hours. She'd begged and pleaded and cried, but in the end it had been Cullen who ended it. He'd come tearing into the office, as though the clutches of the Void were after him. "Knight Commander, please. I ask that you take mercy on this mage. I can vouch for Neria's whereabouts that night." Greagior had arched an eyebrow at the younger man and Neria could hear his voice strain, "Well then Cullen. Your study had better be good to convince me that she had nothing to do with this... disaster." Neria sat in her chair, hands folded in her lap and tears running down her flushed cheeks as Cullen lied, LIED, to the Knight Commander as to why it was the two of them that brought Duncan to the scene of Jowan's escape. To her own credit she didn't really react as he was forced to describe precisely what they had been doing. Cullen's voice was surprisingly steady as he spoke of secret meetings after dark, in the more secluded corners of the Tower and how – finally, after what had felt like ages – she had consented to allowing him into her quarters when the unthinkable had happened. They had been interrupted. She had been utterly convinced that Greagior hadn't bought a word of it, surely the seasoned templar could tell she was inexperienced with such things. But Greagior had! He had believed everything! She had been confined to her quarters with only Tranquil allowed past her guarded door while Cullen had been under strict observation and given a harsh warning. Why Greagior hadn't had her made Tranquil she would never know, but she was determined to find out.

The books she'd been reading over the course of her confinement were old diaries and log books of the Chantry dating back to the Storm Age. It had been tedious – and she'd often been distracted by more interesting information – but the journal she currently held had her answers. She was sure of it. Excited, she raised her head to shake her head, blink her eyes and glanced around the library. She knew Cullen was around, somewhere, hopefully nearby. He always seemed to be there when she needed him... or wanted to show someone something interesting. Her scan sopped at his tall frame, arms crossed and a slight frown on his face. Why was he doing that? It wasn't even his 'I'm being serious' face! She finished her scan and caught her breath. _THAT'S_ why Cullen was frowning! Leaning against one of the bookcases, seeming to be watching the mages around him was Ser Aedan. A shiver shot down her spine as their eyes connected. Aedan was known amongst the ladies of the Tower as one of the bad ones. Almost the polar opposite to Cullen, Ser Aedan hated mages and all things associated with them. Something about having had a bad experience with one as a child. How someone so loathsome had been allowed to join the Templars only Andraste knew. But every of age female hated him. It was though he viewed them as his own personal toys not fit to even lick his boots and made sure that they all knew it His last, ahem conquest, had been a brilliant young human girl that had just taken her Harrowing. Such a happy personality and a bright smile that never showed after that night. Greagior had had her sent to Kirkwall.

Now it appeared that Aedan had set his sights on Neria and it set the hairs on the back of Cullen's neck on end. A sneer crept across Cullen's lips as Aedan turned to glance over at him and give that sickening smile. A knot coiled in the pit of Neria's stomach and she slowly got to her feet. Maybe if she left the library before he got to her... put Cullen between the two of them... The trick would be getting past him. She silently cursed herself for choosing the only seat at the end of an aisle with no outlet. It had been unoccupied, and now she knew why. Taking a slow breath, she began inching her way around him hen a sudden shout came from down another aisle caught both their attentions. She pressed herself into the bookcase when Aedan moved towards the noise, hoping to blend in. Heart pounding she took off once he was out of sight, racing for the stairs leading to the Mage Quarters. But before she could get through the door a gauntleted hand grabbed her arm and turned her around so that she was face to face with Aedan. "And where are you going, Mage Surana?" Her throat was dry, she frantically tried to think of something other than 'escape you'.

"I...um... That is... I, well..." Aedan's eyes flashed and his grip on her arm tightened, making her lungs collapse. "You what, Neria.. Did you do something wrong?"

"No. but you might." Cullen's angry voice rang in her ears and seemed to reinvigorate her limbs and Neria ripped her arm from him. She moved upwards a few steps, letting Cullen by her some time. Cullen advanced the few steps between him and Aedan, a murderous look in his eye. "I know what you would like to do, Aedan. I've heard the rumors about you and I will. Not. Let. You." Aedan snorted and turned to face Cullen head on. "And I've heard the rumors about you and this one." Aedan jerked his thumb back over his shoulder at Neria. "Word around the Tower is that you and her have grown close in the last few weeks. I heard that you got off easy from Greagior about it too, even though both of you were present when two blood mages escaped the tower. Imagine what the Grand Cleric would say if she learned that you also were under the control of a blood mage." Cullen's face turned scarlet as his rage boiled over. "Neria is no blood mage." His voice was low and threatening, but Aedan didn't flinch. "Can you prove it?" Neria swallowed. Of course Cullen couldn't prove it! Two templars arguing over what to do with her, this must have been what it felt like to be an apostate. She tried to catch Cullen's eye, give him some clue as to what she was about to do, but he just kept glowering at Aedan.

A harsh cough made Neria jump and all three of them to look up the staircase at Knight Commander Greagior approached. "What is going on here?" He stopped moving a stair about Neria, as though his very presence would have stopped what was coming. Cullen spoke first, "I was just heading to the mage quarters when I came across Aedan harassing this mage." Greagior glanced at Neria then folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow at Aedan. "Templar Aedan, I've received multiple complaints about your behavior. What have you to say in your defense?" Aedan straightened, the plate armor he wore clinking slightly. "What do you mean, Knight Commander? What rumors?" Greagior's jaw clenched and Cullen expression soured. She tried to catch Cullen's glance, but all three templars were so involved in their arguments that they didn't hear what she did; A soft cry from upstairs.

Looking between the three of them, she took a quick breath and started up the stairs. She'd only gone up a few steps when there came a gruff cough behind her. She looked back and raised her eyebrows, Greagior was frowning at her. "Young lady, you go to my office. Cullen and I will be there momentarily." Carefully she nodded and disappeared up the stairs. She closed the giant door at the top and gave silent prayers of thanks. Quickly, she picked up handfuls of her robes and raced down the hall, her path curling around others until she reached Greagior's office. The room was small, with an oak desk and large bookcases lining the walls. Walking around she read a few of the titles, hoping to calm her nerves. _Ways to annul your Circle, How to read the Auras, 101 uses for the sword of Mercy._ She shook her head and kept looking. Who knew how long it would take before... there came a loud crash from the hall followed by a chorus of screams and other loud thuds. Uncertain fear, a feeling she hadn't felt in years, gripped her as the very air around her grew chill despite her nearness to the fire. She'd felt this way before during her Harrowing when she'd fought the Pride demon. Bracing herself, Neria turned slowly to find a demon floating just above the floor, its corporeal form feminine in shape and scantily clad at that.

"Hello, young mage." the demons voice echoed around her mind, making Neria shiver involuntarily. The demon inched closer, "What secrets you have, pretty one. Such a pretty face. How...surprising to find such scandalous thoughts behind them." Images flashed through Neria's mind, like half-forgotten dreams. Memories of things she had felt, seen. Glances from Cullen across the library, late night walks through the small herb garden, dreams that made her stomach heat her cheeks flush; images of Cullen, stripped to the waist carrying firewood, her watching him as he snuck down the only stream on the island to bathe. Shaking herself free, Neria backpedaled quickly, bumping into the closed door.

"Get away from me!" she screamed, hurling a fireball that engulfed the demon and the room in flame. As the demon screamed, Neria yanked open the door and hit the floor as the fire ate up the fresh air. Footsteps pounded towards her and she turned her face to see Wynne emerging from a side hall with several of the younger apprentices in tow. "Neria!" The older woman cried, stooping to help Neria to her feet. "What's happening?" Neria asked, grabbing the outstretched hand and following Wynne through the maze of side corridors and hidden passages. Wynne didn't answer, just kept leading them down and down and down. They passed through one cross-way and Neria saw a pair of mages battling with Templars. Her heart leapt to her throat and she sped up, matching Wynne's stride as they kept moving. "What's going on?!" Wynne didn't get a chance to answer, a towering grotesque abomination seemed to peel itself from the wall ahead of them and growled. On instinct Neria's hands came up and she shot lightening from her fingers, Wynne readied her staff, but Neria shook her head, "No! Get them out of here!" Wynne hesitated for only a second before running down a side hallway, pulling the children after her.

The abomination staggered back to its feet, hissing and growling all the way. Neria put a foot back to brace herself and launched a wall of ice at the beast. The air froze around them, ice covering the walls and the creature in front of her. Her enemy was frozen with its arms raised to attack, its mouth open on a now silent scream and only its eyes able to move; watching her as she scooted away from it. The ice was slick and she slipped to her knees, grunting as she hit the ground, the ice covered floor cracking beneath her sudden weight. "No!" she gasped, the crack continuing down the hall towards the abomination. Her breath was coming in short gasps, creating a fine mist around her head as she fought her way to her feet. The crack was widening, and now the abomination's feet were free. Gathering her strength, Neria drew a breath and brought up her hand. Lightening sparked between her fingers and she clenched her fist, creating a ball and she threw it at the creature. It burned through its target, making a most horrid stench and the body fell to the floor. "Why you little pile of offal!" Aedan growled as the ball continued forward and engulfed him. Neria's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in horror. "No! Ser templar, I … I was fighting the abomination! I didn't see you." Aedan's face was grim, his cold eyes sizing her up as he reached back for his greatsword.

"A likely excuse mage. How do I know that you're not part of this uprising? You were the rather perfect distraction for the Knight Commander and myself." Neria gulped, "What of Ser Cullen? Did he..." Aedan scowled, "Your precious templar lives, though I cannot say for how long. Last I saw him he was fighting his way through the upper corridors to the Harrowing Chamber." He'd distracted her as he spoke and now she barely had time to dodge out of the way of his weapon, the point cutting through the shoulder of her robes and the soft flesh beneath. She grit her teeth in pain and pressed her back against the ice slick walls. "No! I don't know what you're talking about. I... please, Ser Aedan. I haven't done anything!" Aedan's eyes glowed with a righteous fury as he closed in on her, his free hand snapping forward and closing around her throat. "You will pay for the injury bitch. Your fellow blood mages will die for what they've done. But you... you will learn to obey!" He drew his hand up, still holding her throat, so that her toes were just grazing the floor. "First, you will call me master." Neria's jaw clenched and her eyes widened. Her mouth worked but her voice was restricted to a whisper. "I am no ones slave!" Aedan's fingers tightened and she gave a squeak, the growl in his voice menacing and made her eyes widen. "No! You're mine, mine to control!" The cut on her shoulder began to tingle as she silently encanted a repulsion spell. She watched helplessly as Aedan's eyes widened in panic and he released her. She fell to the floor, her hands clutching at her shoulder while Aedan began to scream and claw at his armor.

"GET OFF OF ME!" His dented breastplate fell to the floor and was quickly followed by his tunic. His fingers were drawing thick cuts in his skin and she watched as large blood red ant like creatures crawled their way over his body and began burrowing under his skin. Aedan's cries of fear shifted to shrieks of pain and he fell to the floor, giving her one last glare before the light left his eyes. She drew a ragged breath and crawled towards him. Her shoulder ached from where Aedan's sword had cut her. Gingerly she brought her fingers up to it, and was surprised to find it healed, leaving only a smear of blood in its place. "Blood magic!" she hissed and scrambled down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her, to the one place she knew no one would look for her. Where she would be safe.

Cullen's room.

Daylen Amell wanted to throttle the templar standing in front of him, "What do you mean the towers been shut up!" He remembered this templar, Carroll, and knew that a well placed bribe was usually enough but now he was being particularly odious. "You will let me pass! I'm a Grey Warden! Carroll snorted, "Oh a Grey Warden, are you? Alright then, lets see some righteous grey wardening." Daylen set his jaw, "Grey Wardens aren't something you, it's something you are." Carroll waved it off, "Semantics." Daylen tried to rein in his temper, Natia sitting at his feet her tail wagging happily. "Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?" the annoying young man thought about it for a moment, "Hmm. Nope. I am feeling a bit peckish though." Natia's tail stopped moving and a low grinding sound came from her throat as Daylen threw up his hands in disgust. Carroll stared at the great mabari for a heartbeat then looked back at Daylen, "On second thought, you can cross." Daylen didn't know what to say, but as they got into the small dingy to cross the lake he winked at Natia and passed her a small treat. Who knew dogs could be so helpful!

The great doors to the tower were closed and it didn't get much better when Daylen went inside. Templars were everywhere. Most were on their feet, either guarding the second set of doors that led to the inner portions of the tower while there were a few on the floor, hissing and groaning with pain. He could see two that were in desperate need of a healer, green fluids puddling around them from gaping wounds. Then there was the stench, it was though someone had redirected every lavatory in the tower to empty in the entrance hall then dumped an age's worth of slop on top of that. His nose wrinkled and he had to resist putting a hand over his mouth and nose. Standing in the middle of the chaos was an older man that Daylen instantly recognized, "Knight Commander Greagior, why am I not surprised?"

The templar turned to face Daylen, his own expression menacing. "Well look who's back. A proper Grey warden now are we?" He paused for a second then added, "Glad you're not dead."

Daylen snorted, "You don't mean that. You've hated me from the first time you saw me when I was brought to the tower."

Greagior sneered, then shrugged, "Perhaps. But we have a situation here the doesn't involve you, Grey Warden."

Daylen smirked, "And as a Grey Warden I have a right to know!"

Greagior glanced at the mabari next to Daylen and made a face. "Very well. I shall speak plainly so you are certain to understand, Warden. The tower is no longer under our control." Daylen's ears perked, "Abominations and demons stalk the halls. We were too complacent, first Jowan and now this. I can only hope that someday Jowan gets what he deserves but right now I have more pressing concerns." He sounded as though he was dismissing him, but Daylen wasn't going anywhere. Not without Neria.

"Have they all become abominations?" Neria was a powerful mage, she knew the dangers of accepting a demons deal... she could never become an abomination.

Greagior sighed, "They may as well have. What does that matter? They took us by surprise. We were prepared for one or two abominations, not the horde that fell upon us."

Daylen found himself agreeing, much as he would never admit it. During his years at the Tower he'd observed the mage to templar ratio, and had oft considered what would happen if the mages combined their strength and rose up against the templars. "So what's your plan?"

Greagior gave him an odd look, as though weighing his words carefully. "I would destroy the tower. Raze it to the ground but cannot risk any more of my men." Daylen's breath returned. _Good, he's still got that fools heart. _"The doors will stay shut and protect us for now." Daylen's grip on his staff tightened, Natia whining softly as she sensed the change in her masters mood.

"You shut everyone in there? You locked Neria in there with those... things!"

The look Greagior gave him could have formed icicles in the Void. "Not just mages but my own men. I had no choice, the abominations must be contained at all costs. We do not mean for the doors to stay closed forever! Everything in the tower must be eliminated, I've sent word to Denerim calling for the Right of Annulment."

Daylen's temper flared and his hand lashed out, grasping the templar by the collar and pining him to the pillar behind him. "How can you think of annulling the entire circle!"

"You assume there will be anything left to kill."

"The mages aren't defenseless, some must still live. She must still live!"

A brief look of compassion passed over Greagior's features, and his tone softened, "No one could have survived those monstrous things. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find... nothing. Your young friend is gone, Grey Warden. You must accept that."

"No. I can't accept that. If she is dead then you are the one who killed her, you shut them all in!"

"And what was I supposed to do? Leave the doors open as the abominations poured out? If there are any still alive the Maker himself has saved them!" Daylen released him, "There are not the mages you remember. They are abominations. To save their souls you must harden your heart." Daylen stared long and hard at the older man before answering, "I'm going in there. I will investigate this and show you that mages can govern themselves. We can handle this."

"You must face and slaughter the abominations to get to the bottom of this. And a word of caution; once you cross that threshold, you cannot turn back. The great doors must remain barred until I have proof that it is safe. I will only believe it if the First Enchanter stands and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen, then the Circle is lost and must be destroyed. It is the innocent folk of Ferelden who matter. I would lay down my life and the life of any mage to protect them. No abomination shall cross this threshold, no matter who they once were."

"Neria is no abomination. She yet lives."

"Believe what you will then Warden. But when you come across your friend – either as abomination or worse – blame me not. This curse of yours is to blame." Daylen flared his nostrils but said nothing, there was nothing he could. Mages and templars would forever be on opposite sides. They could never work together. The first floors belonged to the apprentices, with the men and women separated into different rooms. Beyond that was were the children were housed until they were old enough to be moved and after that...another door. Seriously? Another door? This one was never closed! He'd just passed dozens of dead mages and templars, why would anyone shut this... he pushed the door open and Daylen saw why. At the other end of the room, was a rage demon and it was attacking Wynne. The small group around her scattered, Daylen was surprised to find that they were mostly children. The demon let out a ghostly wail as it returned to the Fade. She must have heard his approach because she turned with her staff raised then stopped. Apparently he hadn't changed much in his time gone from here. "Stop right there! Take another step and I swear I will strike you down where you stand."

"Great to see you too Wynne. I am gladly surprised that you survived Ostagar."

"What's your purpose here, mage Daylen? And speak quickly, I'll tolerate none of your games."

"I need help for a boy in Redcliffe. Made a deal with a demon, I want to see if we can break its hold on him."

"Have the Templars opened the door?"

"Greagior called for the Right, but it hasn't arrived yet. I convinced him to wait but he won't open the door without Irving's word that the Tower is clear. Should Irving be dead... Then he will eliminate the Circle, with or without the Right."

Her face saddened and she lowered her staff, "So Greagior thinks we're beyond hope." She snorted, "He probably thinks we're all dead." She put up her staff and walked to Daylen, arms crossed. "They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, some have survived. Should they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them."

"Do you know what happened here?"

"Let's just say we've got something of a revolt on our hands. Led by a mage named Uldred." Daylen's brow wrinkled. _Uldred...Uldred... why does that sound familiar? Ah yes. Psychotic bastard that shot that fireball at me at Ostagar..._ "When he returned form Ostagar he tried to take over the Circle. As you can see, it didn't go as he had planned. While I don't know what became of Uldred I am certain all of this is his doing. I will not lose the circle to one mans pride and stupidity."

"Just how did you survive down here?"

Wynne gave a tired smile, "I erected a barrier over the door that leads to the rest of the tower so that nothing could get through to attack the children. You cannot get to the rest of the Tower as long as the barrier holds. But I will dispel it if you join with me, to save the Circle." Daylen stared at her, dumbfounded. She wanted him to what? _SAVE_ the Circle? How many hits had the old biddy taken? Had she forgotten who she was talking with?

"Why?"

Panic flashed across her face, "Once Greagior sees that we have made the Tower safe I am certain he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable." Daylen snorted, "Greagior? Reasonable?" He waved his hand, "Whatever, my only concerns are getting Neria out of here and the boy in Redcliffe." Wynne exhaled heavily, "She is beyond the barrier. You cannot reach her. The offer still stands, however. Help me save the Circle and I will help you rescue Neria." Daylen chewed the inside of his cheek then grunted, "Fine. You drive a hard bargain woman." Wynne gave him a hard smile. "If the Blight goes unchecked, the Tower will be one of few places that may survive." Daylen shook his head, not wanting to vocally agree but unable to deny her logic. "Lower your barrier Wynne. We have a Tower to reclaim."

They passed several clumps of dead bodies surrounded by piles of fallen books, toppled bunks and scattered papers. Daylen shook his head, this wasn't the Tower he'd left, nor the one he remembered. Everything was in disarray, and the stench of burned and rotting flesh coupled with the uncared for chamber pots and the overwhelming pressure of thousands upon thousands of demons as they tried to invade his mind... "This is worse that I thought." he muttered as they made their way through the second floor, passing side corridors and mages chambers. Some were locked, with several hours of lyrium left in the Sword of Mercy, while others were simply chained and locked with heavy locks across them. "Yes." Whispered Wynne, "A true shame." Daylen looked at her while they moved up the stairs to the third level, "Do you know what happened to Neria?"

"She glanced at him, then pressed her lips together, "The last I saw her, we were running from a hunger demon. She was separated from us on the fourth level, fighting an abomination I believe. I'm sorry Daylen, but she told me to get the children away." Daylen grabbed Wynne's arm, nodding down a side hall where the walls were encased in ice. The bodies of an abomination and a templar lay on the floor. The abomination had been killed by magic, lightening by the looks of the burns, but the Templar... He'd been killed by bugs? Really? By the looks of things, those very bugs had come from within the templar... he heard Wynne behind him, "Who did this?" Daylen swallowed and touched the floor, perfectly smooth and cold. Like glass. "Neria."

Wynne stared at him, shock evident in her voice, "Neria? Sweet sensible innocent Neria? Daylen smirked to himself, "My master once taught me how to feel the soul of magic, it was a way of telling who had cast a spell. A trick that the Templars use when tracking apostates. Every mage has their own signature, leaving a fingerprint on every spell they cast.." She stared at the younger man, taking in his vibrant red hair and blood stained tattoo. She knew the story behind his hair, how magic has changed it from the natural chocolate brown it had been. His tattoo had been freshly opened to the air from it's bandages when Solona had made her attack, hence its bloody look. She'd once felt sorry for him, how precious Solona's death had affected him, but as time had passed and Daylen had become a hardened soul with so much anger against the Circle, the Chantry and the Templars, she realized that pity was wasted on him. Daylen Amell was a strong man, able to stand on his own two feet. Yet the senior enchanters had watched him closely as he'd become friends with Neria Surana. And the deepening attraction he'd been cultivating for her. There were two opinions about this; one saying that Neria, sweet sensible, impressionable as she was, would temper his anger and all their worry was for naught. But others – including Wynne – feared that the younger girl would fall prey to his way of thinking, and Daylen would have a powerful ally.

Now, as they continued on their journey deeper into the Tower, she could see that she'd been right. Daylen was a powerfully built man. Had he not been given magic, he would have been a great warrior, the way he swung the giant claymore, cutting through both abomination and demon alike. His physical presence aside, Wynne could sense the raw energy of his power, barely restrained as he kicked down door after door, shouting for Neria as he searched. They were moving slowly through the fourth floor, the senior enchanters rooms, a floor below the templars. These hall were wider, the rooms grander and the demons more powerful. But Daylen would just cut them down – or ran through them as he seemed to prefer doing – until a high scream caught their attention. They had just crested the stairs to the templars rooms and Daylen spun down a side hall, up a short flight of stairs. The chamber he entered had once belonged to a templar and both mages hesitated at the threshold. That is until a second scream reached them, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Poor pitiful mage. So foolish. You truly thought you could escape?" The speaker let out a harsh guttural scream then the first must have done something because there was a loud thud and the first voice's next words were in pain, "Get away from me demon!" Daylen began hacking at the door, he'd heard enough. He knew that first voice too. _Neria._ Something heavy fell against the door and Daylen paused for breath, "Neria!" The young man looked panicked, "Neria! Answer me, dammit!" Wynne grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, "Neria! I know you can use the stonefist spell, cast it at the door!" The young woman let out a harsh laugh, "I'm in a templars room, Wynne! I CANNOT use magic!" Daylen's eyes widened and he attacked the door again with a renewed vigor. The sounds of the fight continued while he hacked at the wood, finally splintering one of the planks enough that it fell away. Daylen reached inside and undid the latch, pulling the door open wide. Neria took advantage of the new freedom and slid over the fallen bookcase that had prevented her escape earlier. Once free of the chamber, Neria raised her hands and cast a freezing spell at the door frame, locking the demon inside behind the clearest glass.

Daylen stared at her in shock. Neria Surana had always been on the petite side, with white blonde hair tinged with blue and eyes like aquamarines, that would sparkle when she smiled. But this woman who now stood before him was not the shy, timid girl that he remembered. Neria now wore a soft blue velvet robe without sleeves covered by a corset that drew attention to her waist and the small belt she wore around it. Sleeves had been sewn to bracers made from cloth of gold and then to the top of the corset, wide ones that were lined with wolf fur. Her hair was now long and hanging past her shoulders, held back from her face by a ribbon of the same blue to match her robe and showing her pointed elven ears. She was returning his stare with one of confused relief. "Daylen! What are you doing here?" He didn't speak, just kept staring, mouth agape. She popped her hip and placed a hand on it, raising an eyebrow. "Am I so strange to you now?"

He clicked his jaw together, shaking his head, "No... No, Neria, I...uh... I was just...um. Are you alright?"Neria grinned and nodded once, "Now that I'm free of that room, yes, but we need to get out of here." Wynne shook her head, "We need to find Irving. And anyone else lucky enough to escape Uldred's madness." Neria's face paled as she processed what had been said, "Uldred? But he had been put under templar guard!" Her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh goodness, Cullen!" the muscles in Daylen's jaw tightened at her casual mention of the templar but kept his mouth firmly shut. Now wasn't the time.

Daylen removed his hand from the Fade pedestal and stepped out into the Tower's library. The smell was the same, the windows were still showing bright sunshine outside and dust was still falling from the rafters. _What in the Void..._ Looking around he saw Neria cuddled in a corner seat with..._ Solona?_ Why would she be around here? She was dead! Foolish girl had killed herself! Solona looked up and in that same singsong voice of hers called to him, "Daylen! Come over here! See what we've found!" He moved slowly, making sure none of the mages and templars filing around him weren't going to suddenly attack. Neria looked up when Solona had called out and her eyes locked on him.

"Daylen... Don't say it. I know this isn't real. Every time I try to leave for my rooms the whole place shifts and I return here. Here... where everything's perfect. The way it should have been." Her voice caught and he knelt in front of her, Solona ignored as she continued on in her rant. "It was my fault she died, Daylen. She told me the night before that she couldn't handle the training. I should have gone to our mentor, told him what she was feeling. I should have made her go!"

Daylen shook his head, "Ria... There wasn't anything you could have done for her. She was in bad shape when she came to the Tower. When she'd come into her power, remember? Her village locked her away in the cellar and planned on using her for whatever rite they had in mind. She would have died outside to Tower, when she was just a young child, if someone hadn't sent for the Templars. She'd been in torture ever since she came to the Tower. It was inevitable that she would lose her mind."

Neria snorted and rolled her eyes, brushing something that he would have sworn was a tear from her cheek, "She didn't need to die. She could have fought this..." He looked behind him and saw the teacher, the one Solona had killed, enter the library.

"Ria, what is this? You're reliving this day? Really? Out of everything in the Void and Fade you could be stuck in it's this day?"

Neria wasn't listening anymore, she just started rocking back and forth, "It's always the same. I can't stop it. Try as I might, I can't stop it." he rocked back on his heels, watching as the teacher called for their attention. "Come now, you've got to get these fire spells down. First up, Daylen. Will you show us how a proper fireball should be launched?" Daylen stood and shook his head.

"No." The teacher swallowed, "What? Are you going to make me call the Templars again?" Daylen crossed his arms, "This is a dream, and Neria knows it. You've lost your hold on her, demon." the demon looked past Daylen and gave Neria a glare. "Is this true, Apprentice Surana? Do you believe me to be a demon?" Neria swallowed. "The same day, repeated over and over? Me not being able to go to my rooms? I'd say that's proof you're a demon. I remember the tower being under attack by your kind." The teachers face soured and the group around them soured. Neria instinctively put her back to Daylen's and felt her muscles tense. This wasn't going to be easy. As the nightmare fell into ashes around them, smoke and flame still licking at the shimmery sky, she turned to him. "We need to get out of here, who knows how long its been since we've been trapped here." A grey mist rose around her and her face turned white, "Wait! Daylen! Wait! Where am I..." He watched her disappear, then returned to the pedestal. He still had Wynne to find. And then Uldred would learn what it meant to piss off a Grey Warden, especially when that Warden was a mage.

"Cullen!" Neria cried, dropping her staff and kneeling in front of the cage. "Cullen, what have they done to you?"

Daylen had to admit that the templar didn't look good. His eyes were sunken and his skin pulled across his skull giving him a gaunt and emaciated look. His armor that had once gleamed with polish and showed his pride in his post, was now dented and tarnished. Scratched by countless abominations claws. Cullen looked up from his place on the floor, his eyes devoid of recognition or happiness. "This trick again? I will not fall for it. I will stay strong!"

Neria gasped, "Cullen! What are you talking about? Don't you recognize me?"

Cullen glared at her, "Only too well. How far they must have delved into my thoughts. How dare you use her against me. My one weakness, the one thing I wanted but could never have! I was a fool. A fool to think I could fall in love, with a mage!" Neria swallowed hard and risked putting a hand on the cage walls. Sparks flew at her and she jumped back, "Cullen! It's me!" He sneered at her, "Begone! You will not trick me again! Filthy blood mages, getting into my head with tangled fingers." His eyes closed, a look of pain passing over his features, "Go away! I'm so tired of these cruel jokes, these tricks..." He looked up at her, "Still here?! But that's always worked before!"

"Of course I'm here! I'm real!" she took a breath, "I think we all need to calm down."

"I am beyond caring what you think. The Maker knows my sin and I pray that he will forgive me." Neria sighed, "Cullen, I am real. Daylen's returned to the Tower to save us. Would you really have images of him?" Shock, surprise, Daylen couldn't quite tell what the expression was on Cullen's face. He just knew that he didn't particularly like it. "And so you are... Neria. Maker, I thought they had caught you. They put me through such nightmares... I saw you.. and they were... the things they did..." He stood and folded his arms across his chest. "You can't blame me! I've been in this cage for days... I couldn't... I couldn't tell... Filthy blood mages! They get into your head, searching for anything, to use against you. Dreams, memories, people."

"Come on, Ria. We need to get to Uldred." Daylen tugged on the back of her robe, but she didn't move. "No. You go, Should you fail someone needs to come to your aid." He rolled his eyes, "It's not safe for you to be out here. Don't be so dramatic, come on!" She set her jaw and glared up at him, "Oh? Daylen, I'm not the blushing apprentice you seem to so fondly remember. You forget you've been gone for some time! I can – and have been – defending myself against these creatures and I can still do so. Now, GO!"

It was another hour before the shimmery walls came down and she was alone, face to face with a very angry templar. Cullen raised himself up from the seated position he had taken, his eyes a cold steely blue. "Come along mage. We're going to the Knight-Commander." He grabbed her roughly and yanked it forward, to examine the torn fabric at her shoulder, "And you'll have some explaining to do. Your robes are cut, as though by a weapon, but you bear no scar. Not even the hint of healing magic."

"You're hurting my arm!" His grip tightened as he twisted slightly, "I'll break it, blood mage." She bit her lip and glanced away, up the stairs to the Harrowing chamber. The door scraped open and Daylen appeared, supporting a very weary looking Irving. Cullen followed her stare and snarled, "So you were successful?"

Irving stopped and surveyed the scene. "Yes. Uldred is dead and we must go to the Knight Commander. Greagior must be told that the danger has passed." Cullen released Neria and straightened his shoulders.

"Yes. The Knight Commander will want to know everything."


End file.
